Very Castle Celebrations
by CheerfulChemist
Summary: This story is made up of holiday themed episodes in the same AU as Love's Gift. Castle and Kate are married and have an infant son, Jackson. The story picks up about a month after Jackson is born. There will be Caskett and cases.
1. Chapter 1

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 1

Castle has never cared much for green beer, but it's always been a good seller at the Old Haunt this time of year, so he's willing to hoist one with the cops from the 12th that patronize his place. Not that he can hang around long. Kate is going to have an outing with Lanie, the first one she's had since Jackson was born. He needs to be home to take over diaper duties.

Kate gets shy at the damnedest times. She insisted on closeting herself in the bedroom while she pumped milk for him to feed the baby tonight. He would have liked to watch the process, if for no other reason than his love of gadgets. When they were preparing for Jackson, he made sure they bought the latest model of a breast pump, 2 channel and completely programmable to simulate the nursing experience. But then Kate has always been more into old school. He remembers an old pump his mother showed him that she kept as a keepsake. It looked more like a cheap bicycle horn than a pump, but apparently, it did the job. Somehow, he doesn't think Kate would want to go back that far, but maybe she'll relax a bit about the process. He suspects that by the time she returns to work, the whole thing will just become routine.

Of course, as he remembers how it went with Alexis, babies are never routine. There's always something new, some change every day. He kept a journal of them as Alexis grew. He's enjoying doing the same with Jackson. So far, the chief difference seems to be that unlike with a girl, when his son has a pee pee moment on the changing table, there's a nice parabolic trajectory. He hasn't seen a rainbow form yet, but if the light is just right in the nursery, it could happen.

Castle checks his watch. Time to go. Maybe if he and Kate are really lucky, Jackson will allow them to grab enough shuteye that they'll actually be awake when they bring him to the Saint Patrick's Day Parade in the morning. There's supposed to be a display of enormous shamrock shaped balloons that might catch the baby's eye. If nothing else, Jackson should enjoy the music. His eyes were bright, and he waved his hands and feet when Castle played an old recording of The Irish Rovers singing _The Unicorn Song_ for him.

* * *

Kate returns from her girls' night out much earlier than Castle had expected. She explains that Lanie had been called away on a case. Lanie hadn't been able to tell her much about it, except that the body had been found in an alley near the parade route on Fifth Avenue. The cops and CSU will have to work very fast to prevent a disruption of the festivities the next day.

Castle can see that Kate is a little nostalgic for the times that they would both rush to the scene of a homicide. He is too, but not so much that he wants his wife back where some dirtbag will be pointing a gun at her. She's great at solving cases on the task force, and there are plenty of them. The Kate Beckett hands-on quest for justice will resume in a couple of months. Until then, they can live vicariously. Esposito and Ryan are never hesitant to recount their crime-solving prowess. It's also amazing how much stuff appears on social media. Some of it even bears some semblance to reality. Given the location of the crime scene, there might even be something on the evening news.

Castle could swear he sees specks of green glitter in the hair of reporter Lucinda O'Mara. They must have been getting an early start on the holiday in the ZNN newsroom. Lucinda doesn't have much information to share, except for assuring the public that the parade will go on as planned. Castle imagines that Lucinda might have some plans of her own.

* * *

The March morning is cool, but Jackson seems comfortable in the fuzzy green plush sleeper that Kate and Castle chose to protect him from catching a chill. He also has the warmth of his father's arms. Kate selected a spot as close as she could to the scene of the murder. Castle would have expected nothing less. The area is still taped off and guarded by uniformed officers, but as far as Castle can tell, devoid of any investigative activity. Kate confided that she did finagle a promise out of Lanie for an update on anything unusual about the body.

The parade is pleasantly raucous. The promised balloons go by, and Jackson seems to be paying attention but becomes way more engaged by the wail of the bagpipes played by fur-hatted marchers. Castle sincerely hopes that won't become his son's choice of music. Bagpipes are classed as a weapon of war for an earsplitting reason.

Even in the midst of the noisy crowd, Jackson falls asleep against Castle's green wool-covered chest. Castle knows his son will be hungry when he wakes up. Upon arising, the boy is always is in a mood remarkably similar to Kate's before she's had her morning latte. Castle hopes that when the infant is a little older, he'll have a better morning disposition, much like his own. Be that as it may, they can't stay at the parade much longer.

* * *

Kate gets Lanie's text almost as soon as they return to the loft. The victim was killed by an ancient Gaelic dart called a ga. Someone had thrown three of them at close range. Apparently, the location of the murder wasn't the only thing with an Irish theme. The weaponry has one as well.

Kate is intrigued, and if anything, Castle is even more fascinated. An Irish killing will make a great short story. In fact, it could be the beginning of a series of themed stories. He's determined to discover the facts about this one, even if he has to let the boys use the Ferrari for the rest of the year. There's no room in it for a baby seat anyway. He's been thinking of getting rid of it and just keeping his Mercedes. If he can use it as a bribe to keep the information flowing that will be even better.

Something is pricking at the back of Castle's mind from the gut-wrenching study he made of serial killers, as research for his books. A weapon like a ga could be a signature of sorts. So far, the murder hasn't been tied to any others, but the boys might not have even tried. Kate had dismissed his suspicion that another homicide they'd investigated had been committed by a serial killer, until Lanie found evidence to back him up. The boys could be keeping their focus as narrow as Kate had back then.

"The Irish Murders" does have a certain ring to it, or maybe he can call his story the "Gaelic Grim Reaper," but right now a title is the last thing he needs to worry about. He has some research to do, but he recognizes the plaintive infant alert sounding from the nursery. It's his turn at the changing table. Kate made the meal; it's his responsibility to clean up. That's only fair. He just received the shipment he ordered of what were reviewed as the world's best diapers. He'll soon find out if Jackson shares _Princely Parenting's_ opinion.


	2. Chapter 2

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 2

It's both amazing and disquieting to Castle just how many sites there are on the web that list or even celebrate serial killers. Google cites 10.5 million entries on the topic. He just wants to find one whose subjects have a theme that relates to something Irish or at least Gaelic. He's not getting much done except for making his stomach turn at the descriptions of what the killers did to their victims. With all his research and the time he spent shadowing Kate, he still can't wrap his mind around that kind of evil. He can see why such murderers were and sometimes still are thought by some to be demon possessed. Intellectually, he can understand that these killers have seriously miswired brains, but it's hard to internalize that concept. Viscerally, he envisions them as twisted monsters masquerading as humans.

He decides to go at his search from another tack. Not much says St. Patrick's Day like a pub, and darts have been traditional in pubs for over 100 years. If there is a serial killer, perhaps he's the "Dart Killer."

Once he gets past the references to "killer dart games," he finds something promising. It's about a death that was classed as a tragic accident. Someone was accidentally hit on the head with a lawn dart, the kind that has since been taken off the market for safety reasons. Could the victim have been killed deliberately? Looking at it another way, could New York's dart killer have experienced a psychotic break after some past traumatic dart-related incident?

Castle decides that using his subscription to a database of news stories might be a better way to attack his research than just employing a popular search engine. He trims his keywords down to "dart" and "death," and starts again. Finally, he has a manageable list of citations.

He glances at the time at the bottom of his screen. It's midnight already. Any minute Jackson will… Right on schedule. Kate had hit the sack around 10 to get in a couple of badly needed hours of slumber. Castle lifts Jackson out of his crib and brings him to Kate, before stretching out beside them. When Jackson finishes his late-night snack, he'll carry a hopefully drowsy infant back to his baby bower. If his son protests, he may have some comforting to do before he can return to his research - if he can return to his online hunt. Kate's not the only one who's tired. He didn't notice it when he was immersed in tracking down clues to a killer, but now that he's had a few moments to relax, exhaustion descends like a lead curtain. Screw it! He'll get Jackson settled and grab some rest himself. His database will still be there after sunrise.

* * *

There's no database. In fact, there's no internet, except on his phone and tablet. His ISP has had an outage massive enough to have stopped taking calls and is just answering inquiries with a recorded message that they're working on it. His data service works off a whitelist and won't accept a query, even with the right username and password, if the IP address is unrecognized. He can't sign on from anything except his nonfunctional wireless network. He's not going to be continuing his research until his ISP gets its act together - however long that may take.

It is the perfect excuse to just curl up with Kate and Jackson. He won't be able to stream anything to his big screen, but his DVR, DVDs, and Blu-rays will work fine. It's a little early in the day for popcorn, but the perfect time for hot chocolate. With Kate's fondness for vintage music and Jackson's newfound appreciation of bagpipes, Castle decides to dig out the Gene Kelly version of Brigadoon. The movie is less than two hours long, but with any luck, the internet may be back by the time it's over.

Jackson falls asleep five minutes into the movie, something Castle makes a note of for future reference. That will give him and Kate some much-needed cuddle time. Dr. Sabatini has not yet given Kate her OK for traditional sex, not that they've had much energy for it anyway, but a quiet interlude together is like a gift from the gods. He draws her into his lap. Her breasts are fuller than they've ever been. He's seen her frowning at herself in the mirror a couple of times, running her hand over an abdomen that has yet to recover its hard-fought pre-pregnancy firmness.

He doesn't mind a little softness. He actually likes it, especially considering its origin. He has no doubt that Kate will push herself until she recovers the shape she believes to be perfection. She's as much a warrior in that as she is in everything else. But to him, she's nothing less than perfect now - and too goddamned sexy.

When Kate runs her hand up his thigh, he gets the loud and clear message that he's not the only one feeling the urge to do more than snuggle. There are things they can try that won't upset Dr. Sabatini. As long as Jackson is being so obliging, there are more satisfying amusements than watching someone else's love story. He hits the off button and carries Kate into the bedroom.

Wary of leaking milk, Kate wants to keep her nursing bra on, but there are many delightful unobstructed locations on her body for Castle to explore. He decides to start from the bottom up. There is that spot on the ball of her foot, just bordering her arch. Kate gasps as he finds it, thrashing against the bed. His lips blaze a trail to the tender skin of her inner thigh. Her hands fist in his hair, pulling him further upward.

Their lips meet with chocolate-tinged sweetness. His tongue searches for the intoxicating taste that is all Kate. She presses against him, running her fingers down his back until she grabs the firm muscle beneath. Even without the most intimate joining, the pressure builds between them, demanding more anything, everything. Every inch of his skin screams for her touch. The want that's been suppressed by parental responsibilities and sheer exhaustion is rising like lava from a volcano, kindling flaming trails of desire.

His hand finds the center of Kate's heat, even as she encircles his. Their tongues twine in an ancient dance as touch becomes harder, more desperate. He can feel himself approaching the edge as he works to bring her with him. She's almost there if he can hold back just a little longer. She arches and cries out, just as his own climax breaks free. They gaze at each other in relieved wonder before lying still for a moment, as Castle prays that Jackson is still in dreamland.

Whatever angel guards the sanity of parents of newborns is obviously on duty. No complaints are issuing from the nursery. Wow. Castle hugs Kate to him in silent thanks. As they bask in the afterglow, he vows that the first thing he'll do the next time he picks up his phone is to order a backup copy of Brigadoon. Better still, he'll get both formats of discs and the digital version, just in case.


	3. Chapter 3

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 3

"Eureka!" blasts from Castle's lips before he can help himself. He flinches, waiting for a wail of protest from Jackson, but when Kate comes into the room, Castle can see that their son is enjoying his midafternoon snack.

Kate glances over Castle's shoulder at the screen. "The tragic story of Tommy O'Brien, a teenager who survived after sustaining brain damage from being hit by a lawn dart only to later lose his father in a pub fight over a darts game."

Despite the sadness of the tale, Castle finds it hard to put a damper on his excitement at its discovery. Everything fits. Brain damage can cause violent and irrational behaviors, and the boy also suffered a traumatic loss. He's even Irish!

Kate isn't convinced. The original story was published in Chicago in 1987. She points out that there's no indication that Tommy O'Brien has ever been near New York.

Castle has a response to her objections. He signs on to the site he used to background check the contractor who put in Jackson's nursery. A few strokes to enter what he knows about Tommy O'Brien and for the low, low, price of $39.95, he has access to everything that can be gleaned from public records about the man, including everywhere he's ever lived. There's a recent entry showing a residence in Bloomfield, New Jersey, one of the cheapest places to live that's within commuting distance of New York. In the past, O'Brien has also taken up residence in Boston, Cleveland and Philadelphia, all cities with sizable Irish-American populations.

Castle starts searching for dart-related deaths that took place in those locales during the time Tommy lived there. There were three in Boston, two in Philadelphia, and two in Cleveland. All provoked suspicions on the part of the local constabulary, but no one had ever been accused of a crime. Castle is sure that O'Brien has been committing murders undetected for almost two decades.

Kate reminds him that suspicion is not proof. If they're going to get that, their best bet will be the boy's investigation of the latest murder.

* * *

Jackson seems to be enjoying the lively atmosphere at Remy's when Ryan and Esposito slide into a booth to sit opposite Kate, Castle, and the baby. Kate passes two copies of a file containing everything that Castle's uncovered about Tommy O'Brian, across the table. Esposito, the faster reader of the two, whistles as he scans through the information. "Crazy dude."

Castle is quick to point out that if Tommy is crazy, he's also very smart. Up until now, he's never even been a suspect in any crime, let alone a murder.

Ryan nods his agreement, noting that they can check, but Tommy's DNA and fingerprints probably aren't even in the system. If they were, any evidence associated with any of the deaths by dart would have been connected to him. Establishing a link that will stand up well enough to get something like a search warrant for darts, could be difficult.

Castle has an idea. If Tommy is working or hanging out somewhere in New York, they might be able to get some DNA. He has a friend with a food truck that serves ethnic cuisine. He could send the traveling eatery somewhere Tommy might be looking for bangers and mash, fish and chips or shepherd's pie. They could get DNA and prints off plastic knives and forks or whatever else Tommy touches or puts his mouth on. If Tommy discards any paraphernalia he uses to eat his meal, it could be recovered without the need for a warrant.

Ryan slowly nods his head, adding that the chef might want to put colcannon on the menu.

* * *

Castle peruses the text Kate just received from Esposito. Tommy O'Brien has a job at a handball court on West Fourth Street, which is definitely food truck territory. If Castle can send his friend's restaurant of wheels, Esposito and Ryan can set up a stake-out to watch for Tommy. Castle pulls his own phone out of the pocket of his jeans. He can't say he's ever been interested in learning how to play handball, but he suspects that Kate has the athletic prowess to be terrific at it. He can find whoever he has to tip so he can take Jackson with him to watch. With any luck, the recipient of the bribe might even be Tommy O'Brien.

* * *

Castle quickly discovers that Minnie Krebs, the grandmotherly woman at the reception desk, is a hardcore fan of both Derrick Storm and Nikki Heat books. A look into the deep blue of Castle baby Jackson's eyes is all the tip Minnie requires to allow the family access to the courts and the balcony overlooking them, as long as Kate's games are paid for.

Castle asks Minnie about Tommy O'Brien after spying him in a framed photograph on the wall behind Minnie. In the picture, Tommy was standing near a dart board. Minnie gushingly informs Castle that some of the ballplayers use darts to hone their hand-eye coordination and that Tommy is an expert instructor. Her eyes tear when she tells Castle and Kate that they recently lost Trace O'Henry. Trace, who was the only player to achieve even close to Tommy's dart-plying expertise, was the victim of the terrible murder on Fifth Avenue. Minnie adds that Tommy is in the building as they speak.

Castle and Kate exchange looks. Even if Castle food truck plan doesn't work, they've established a connection between Tommy O'Brien and Trace O'Henry.

Castle smugly notes that he was right about Kate. Not only is she skilled at hitting the ball from any angle, but she's also quick. Jackson seems to be enjoying the smacking sounds of the rebounds from the wall of the handball court.

* * *

Castle looks up from his keyboard as Kate strides into his office. "Hear anything from the boys about Tommy O'Brien?"

He can see the satisfaction in her eyes even before she gives him a thumbs-up. "The prints they got off the container from O'Brien's colcannon match some on a dumpster he must have hidden behind at the crime scene. The DNA on his fork also matches a blood droplet CSU found on one of the darts. O'Brien must have pricked himself or something. Anyway, we have him cold, Castle. The boys are taking some unis to pick him up. But they wouldn't have even come close to O'Brien if it weren't for that writer's imagination of yours."

Castle wonders about getting O'Brien's other murders reopened. Kate tells him that the N.Y.P.D. can contact the other jurisdictions with what they have on the killer, especially the forensics. What to do with it will be up to the officials in Philadelphia, Boston, and Cleveland. It may not be worth it for them to try to get O'Brien extradited. Tommy will either be behind bars or in an institution in New York for the rest of his life. He won't be able to hurt anyone else. She glances at Castle's computer screen and asks him what he's working on.

He proudly announces that it's a short story called "Deadly Darts." It will be solved by Drake Bentley, of course, but Castle will draw a lot of elements from Tommy O'Brien's murders, especially regarding early trauma, both physical and psychological, turning someone from the path of righteousness. Castle's toying with the idea of introducing a forensic historian character who's obsessed with the underlying causes of criminal acts - sort of an irascible Perlmutter type - who has an eye for Grace Hooper and is always trying to involve himself in Drake's cases to get close to her. The historian, Stuart Lipshutz, will be a constant irritant to Drake, but one he can't get rid of because he's too useful in solving cases.

Kate wraps her arms around Castle's neck declaring that she knows all about constant irritants she can't get rid of because they're too useful in solving cases.

Pulling her into his lap, Castle asks her if anything is irritating her now. She brushes her fingertip over his lips. "Only that you haven't kissed me yet."


	4. Chapter 4

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 4

Castle opens his eyes in gleeful anticipation of the day. He's looking forward to it for two reasons. One is that it is the date when the cleverest of scams can be freely perpetrated, especially in the writing community. There is an unspoken competition to pen something that while total fiction or satire, is believable enough to garner responses as if it's real. He has every intention of crafting a masterpiece and launching it into the cybersphere.

The second reason is that it's his birthday. Growing up with the first of April as his natal day had often been nothing short of torture. His classmates had teased him about being the world's biggest joke. But now the joke was on them. The clever quips he'd learned to make in self-defense serve him well in his writing and his sense of humor is a potent shield against the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.

He can't wait to see what Kate has in mind. She's never been above pulling a prank or two, and he is expecting her to come up with something spectacular for his birthday. It will be the first one they'll celebrate together since they got married. He's made himself scarce a few times within the last few days to give her time to plan. He'd also taken Jackson on a few very long walks, to give her a chance to develop her plot to take him by surprise. She should have had no problems putting a plan together.

He can hear the lively tune from Jackson's musical mobile coming from the nursery and detect the siren scent of coffee drifting in from the kitchen. A dark brew will make for a good start on the day.

Kate isn't in the kitchen, but Alexis is. She informs Castle that Kate said she had something to do that morning, but she'll be back before lunchtime. Grinning, Castle suggests that Kate is setting up some great surprise. Alexis stares at him wide-eyed, insisting that she has no idea what he's talking about but that now that he's up, he can take over making breakfast.

Castle's confused. Since she was five, Alexis has always had a tradition of making breakfast for him on his birthday, even if it was just cold cereal and a juice box. He shrugs and grunts, "Fine!"

The setting on the toaster is all wrong, and the toast is three shades too dark. Could Kate have changed it? Not very imaginative, and very disappointing. To make things worse, he has mixed up better – much better – pancake batter in his life, and he doesn't really feel like putting chocolate chip happy faces on the flapjacks. This day is not starting out at all the way he had hoped. At least he manages to make the bacon crisp, or as crisp as turkey bacon can get before becoming nitrate-riddled cardboard.

* * *

His article is not going much better than his culinary attempts did. He received alerts to several brilliant pieces, especially one by Alex Conrad, describing the remains of an ancient pygmy civilization unearthed in New Zealand. The kicker didn't come until the final paragraph which laid out how anthropologists had concluded that these particular pygmies had hairy feet and indulged in many meals throughout the day. Yes, of course, hobbits. Who else would be in New Zealand?

Castle is trying to be at least as creative as his protégé. He's writing a fictional treatise on the experimental work of a scientist who created a teleportation device based on quantum entanglement, but he keeps picturing his researcher as looking like Jeff Goldblum and wants to call him Seth Brundle. Talk about a lack of originality! Even the Goldblum version was based on an earlier movie with David Hedison and Vincent Price.

He needs something to spark his imagination. Maybe it's better that Kate will be gone for a few hours. The Children's Museum is open. He can take Jackson. Even if his son is a few years short of understanding anything he sees, Castle can help a baby finger push the buttons to make mechanical exhibits move, and static ones talk. Something may shake loose in his own sluggish brain.

* * *

The museum is almost empty. It's a Wednesday, and most New Yorkers are either at work or in school. Castle's a bit surprised that Alexis had the time to come to the loft to cover for Kate, although he knows that his daughter likes to schedule her classes in the afternoon. In that respect, she's more like her mother than her grandmother. She's rarely been a cheerful early riser - but then neither has he. As a father and when chasing after Kate at crime scenes, he just had to learn to put up with springing into action, even while mocking remnants of the sunrise still remain in the sky.

A new exhibit on robotics is open. It features a video about a humanoid robot named Pepper who responds to human emotions. Like most such devices, it was developed in Japan. With Jackson securely in his front carrier, Castle has his hands free to look up more information on his phone. Pepper is marketed to the public, at least in Japan, but sells out within minutes. Castle wonders if he can get on a list to snag one the next time there is a release.

Suddenly, he realizes that he has his story. His researcher won't go through his machine himself, with a grotesque outcome; he'll send a robot. Instead of teleporting through space, the mechanical boy will visit an alternate dimension and come back sentient. In the last line Castle will reveal that the alternate realm his changeling found was ruled by the Blue Fairy. He'll leave it up to his readers to figure out that the robot is Pinocchio. His tale will have some echoes of Data on Star Trek the Next Generation, but Castle can make his narrative convincing - at least until the punchline.

* * *

Re-energized, Castle brings Jackson backs to the loft and secures him in his infant seat beside his desk while he works. Kate isn't home yet, but that's OK. He's in the zone as his fingers fly over the keyboard. He publishes his piece on the web just as he hears Kate return, but she's not alone. He checks out what's going on in the living room.

As he watches, the room is being transformed by a group of twenty-somethings, some of whom he recognizes as students from his mother's acting school. Mother is there along with Alexis and Cary. Mother proclaims that they are about to present an exclusive performance of "Mightier than the Sword," the best of Castle's unproduced plays. He has no idea how mother got a copy, but he's sure Kate had something to do with it. His wife looks proud enough of herself.

Alexis ushers Castle to the place of honor in his favorite chair to watch the action. The play proceeds with Castle's protagonist uncovering a deadly plot to take over an unnamed and highly classified government agency. In the end, even though wounded himself, the hero manages to shoot a lethal projectile from a weapon that had been disguised as a fountain pen on his desk the whole time. The villain of the piece dies, calling for his baby blanket, the last scrap of which he always carried in his pocket. The room is filled with enthusiastic applause, but the actor playing the villain doesn't rise to take a bow. Kate rushes to him and feels his neck for a pulse. There is none.

A/N Pepper is real.


	5. Chapter 5

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 5

Kate starts CPR while Castle calls 911. Despite several attempts at defibrillation, Michael Bloomingdale shows no signs of reviving. The EMT's will continue CPR as he is transported to the hospital, but the situation isn't encouraging.

The celebratory mood has completely vanished from the assemblage. Martha's students stand around in stunned silence while Kate makes coffee.

Castle thinks he spotted a few flecks of foam on Michael's lips and suspects that his play's villain might have been poisoned. As far as anyone recalls, Michael didn't eat or drink anything at the loft but did have a soda that he brought with him to rehearsal. Mother believes that the bottle might still be in a recycling receptacle at the Martha Rodgers School of Acting. Kate calls the boys and suggests that someone who can preserve the chain of custody retrieve the container - just in case Castle is right. DNA should confirm that Michael drank from it.

Alexis answers a knock on the door. Castle's birthday cake, in the shape of a dead body, has arrived. It seems like a cruel joke, but feeding his guests is better than doing nothing. Castle blows out the candles to a muted version of "Happy Birthday," and begins distributing slices, while Alexis dishes out ice cream.

While a stilted discussion about the richness of the filling and the frosting is the only conversation that fills the room, Castle calls the hospital for an update. He is politely but firmly informed that any information regarding Michael Bloomingdale's condition can only be released to the next of kin. It's ominous, but pretty much what he expected. As the scion of one of New York's most affluent families, if Michael is dead or even critical, sooner or later, it will make the news. More than likely it will appear on social media first. Castle sets alarms on any site he can for mentions of Michael's condition.

One by one, Martha's students depart. Alexis and Cary both apologize that they have to go too, because they have studying to do. Mother departs to the theater, leaving Castle and Kate alone except for Jackson who predictably begins to wail.

* * *

Twitter has been uncharacteristically silent on the subject of Michael Bloomingdale. Normally, his name is regularly used as a hashtag, but has not appeared for almost 24 hours. Castle scans through the threads. He's only vaguely aware of the activities of New York's old money families, his wealth being too newly acquired for him to garner any notice from them. He did go to school with a couple of the less exalted members of that stratum of the city's society, but as a scholarship kid, didn't exactly run in their circles. Being on the debate team with a Bloomingdale was about as close as he got. Still, it is enough of an in to call and express concern. He does have an alumni directory with contact information.

Caspar Bloomingdale seems surprised by Castle's call but not put off by it. He had no idea that his cousin was a drama student and had heard nothing on the family grapevine about an illness - or anything worse. He listens to Castle's description of what happened at the end of the play and promises to get back to him if he hears anything about Michael.

Kate tells Castle that the N.Y.P.D. had a little better luck. According to what she heard from the boys, CSU found Michael Bloomingdale's soda bottle. Both his DNA and fingerprints were on file as a precaution in case he was abducted. They matched. There were traces of thallium in the container, most likely too small a dose to cause immediate death or obvious symptoms. Small doses administered over time, however, could very well have killed the unfortunate would-be actor. Her contact in the department did confirm that Michael is indeed deceased, but that in deference to the family's wishes and especially due to their friendship with the police commissioner, his death is being kept under wraps.

Castle can tell that Kate is itching to get further into the case, even if she has no official standing. He is more than a little curious himself, not to mention pissed off at the murderer for ruining his birthday celebration. He gives Caspar another call, hoping to stimulate some thought in Michael's cousin's head that hadn't occurred to him during their previous exchange.

Caspar does have a new insight. There were rumors in the family that when Michael came into his inheritance, he was planning on systematically giving much of it away for philanthropic causes, in the model of J.K. Rowling or Bill Gates. That idea was not popular at all with some members of the Bloomingdale clan who viewed it as loosing their reins on the control of New York City's upper crust. As far as getting close enough to Michael to slip anything in his drink, Caspar believes the list may be relatively short, but he isn't in a position to know who might be on it.

Kate gets a text from Ryan and passes the information on to Castle that Gates has given the boys the lead on the investigation. Since the members of the Castle family, as well as Martha's students, are all potential witnesses, they will be formally interviewed. Given the goodies available in the loft's larder, the boys are more than willing to take statements from Kate and Castle there, but Kate wants to go to the Twelfth.

Castle can understand why she might be a bit homesick. It's been a while since she's been anywhere near the bullpen. If Jackson cooperates, she and Castle can go to the precinct the next day.

Kate traces a pattern with her fingertip on the V of his chest exposed by the two open buttons on his shirt. "You know, Jackson will probably sleep for at least an hour, and we never did properly celebrate your birthday."

Castle cups the smooth skin of her cheek. "That is true. That is very true. Any ideas for festivities that you would like to share?"

Kate takes his hand to lead him toward the bedroom, purring that she might have a few. She begins to unbutton his shirt, but she's doing it too slowly - way too slowly. He pulls at it, buttons popping and flying. He can find them later - or just get a new shirt. On the other hand, perhaps he'd rather keep it. He has a feeling that some lovely memories are about associate themselves with the 100 percent pure cotton relaxed cut garment.

He pulls Kate's top over her head and unsnaps her bra. If she sprays him with milk, he really doesn't care. She unbuckles his belt and pulls it from his jeans, before freeing his growing arousal. He strips her pants and lacy thong away as well. He can feel the heat beneath his fingers. She always has been at her most excited when immersed in the details of a case, and she couldn't get much closer to that than finding one in the middle of their living room. She's as turned on as if they'd spent the last hour theory-building. Who needs a whiteboard when you've got a bed?

Kate pulls him down to the spread with her. The silky duvet cover is smooth beneath their bare skin. She nips at his shoulder as he cups her breasts, and whispers. "Remember what Dr. Sabatini said?"

Castle could never forget that. "No restrictions as long as it feels good." He expects that both of them will soon feel very good indeed.


	6. Chapter 6

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 6

Castle can see the glow on Kate's face as they enter the bullpen, even if it is just to be questioned. In his carrier, snuggled against Castle's chest, Jackson is sound asleep. With any luck, he will stay that way while they're at the 12th. If not, Castle and Kate can take turns walking their son around. Ryan might even want to have a go at infant-ambling. Kevin and Jenny are trying to have a child, and he's already been obsessing in very Ryan-like ways about all the things he'll have to master to be a good father. Castle can empathize with that. Even though Kate is much more attentive to Jackson then Meredith ever was to Alexis, he's still learning the ropes. Or maybe he's just older and doesn't have the knees to handle multiple hours of pacing wooden floors as well, anymore. Whatever the case, he admires Ryan's enthusiasm.

The boys want to talk to Castle and Kate separately; Castle will be with Ryan and Esposito with Kate. That figures in a way Castle's not entirely sure he likes. If anything, since Jackson's birth, he's felt more like a lion defending his domain. Not that he's ever seen Espo step over the line, but the brusque cop has seemed to come close now and then. Ryan is as hopelessly in love as ever with Jenny. To Castle, that's a much more comfortable situation, and one he can thoroughly relate to.

Ryan is all business as he goes through every detail Castle can recall about Michael Bloomingdale's demise. The Irish cop particularly wants to know if Castle noticed anything about the expressions on the other players' faces when Michael went down. That wasn't anything Castle had considered. His attention had been more drawn by what Caspar had told him about the Bloomingdale family, but Ryan does have a point. If someone was slipping small but steady doses of thallium to Michael, they might have enlisted an accomplice at Mother's school.

Castle closes his eyes to picture the scene. The looks of horror were almost universal when Kate announced that Michael had no pulse - except on one actress. Patience Conroy appeared triumphant. Given the techniques Mother teaches for actors to lose themselves in their characters, it is possible that Patience might still have been immersed in her role. Michael was the villain of the piece and Patience was playing one of the good guys. Still, Castle has to agree with Ryan that Patience's attitude could be a lead worth pursuing. Mother might have a solid grasp on just how much of a method actress Patience is. Ryan will be questioning the diva too, later in the day. Patience's behavior is well worth an inquiry to the person with the most knowledge of her acting techniques.

Esposito concluded his interview with Kate before Ryan and Castle finished their discussion. Castle's not surprised to find his wife staring at the murder board. Standing there beside her is like a flashback. He can't resist picking up a marker and adding the name of Patience Conroy, with a question mark. Ryan will no doubt clue in Esposito about why the budding actress is of interest. Castle promises Kate he'll explain on the way home, just as Jackson begins to stir. Fortunately, the baby will enjoy the walk back to the loft.

* * *

As Aprils in New York go, this one is pretty warm. There aren't many pedestrians about. It's too late for them to be hurrying to work and too early for the lunch rush. Castle and Kate stroll hand in hand, before deciding to stop for ice cream. The trendy parlor is as sparsely populated as the sidewalk. Kate requests dark chocolate gelato with a swirl of raspberries. Castle's choice of a peanut flavored frozen confection with stripes of fudge reminds him of homemade buckeyes given to him by a fan at a con in Ohio. He and Kate take seats at a tiny wrought iron table outside the door of the shop. He hasn't had much time for people watching, except during his forays to the park with Jackson. Even on those, he didn't take much of an opportunity to observe the other greenspace lovers. As slow as the stream of New Yorkers is now, he has a chance to imagine a backstory for each passerby. Sooner or later, he may commit his musings to print.

He also can't help thinking about Patience Conroy. There has to be a story there somewhere. Even if she has nothing to do with Michael's murder, she could also make an interesting character for a story. But deep in his brain somewhere, her reaction to Michael's death is niggling at him. Ryan can check her out, but Castle is going to do some research of his own - or rather with Kate. Spinning theories about homicides together puts both of them in the mood for even more pleasurable pursuits - especially lately.

Jackson lets it be known as loudly as his young lungs can manage that he wants to get moving again. It's not much farther back to the loft, but the joggling of the short walk will help settle him down. When they get back, his brand-new baby swing may help even more. For the motion loving baby, aside from being affixed to Kate's nipple, the swing is his favorite place to be. Mother has remarked that Castle was like that when he was a baby - and while he was growing up for that matter. He might not have been a jock, but he never wanted to stop moving. Castle is not sure whether he finds the similarity encouraging or terrifying, but for the moment, he and Kate can take advantage of it.

* * *

There is not much on the web about Patience Conroy. There are reviews of school plays she was in when she was growing up and notices of a few junior acting awards. Though not from a wealthy family, she might have had contact with the Bloomingdales. Her father was written up as the quintessential gentleman's gentleman, which would have made Patience part of the downstairs culture, at least by proximity. That alone is not a reason why she would harbor any antagonism toward Michael. The young man seemed to have no inclination to look down on the working class, regardless of what his social and financial standing might have been. If Patience did play a part in Michael's death, Castle is sure there is some factor he's missing.

Kate suggests that if Patience was associated with the Bloomingdale's somehow, maybe her relationship wasn't with Michael, but with one of the members of the family whom Caspar had alluded to, someone who resented Michael's intentions for how Bloomingdale money would be used. That scenario could make Patience a solid candidate for accomplice - if they can figure out who might have ordered the poisoning. Kate is right. They need to establish which Bloomingdale resented Michael and might have benefited most from his death.

Castle has to talk to Caspar again, but he'd prefer not to do it on the phone. And he wants to have Kate with him. There is an event coming up to raise money for the city's elite student debate squad. It's just the kind of gathering Caspar would find appealing. Debate was the only activity for which Castle could remember his old acquaintance showing any real fervor. Castle determines that the debate squad supporters are employing the same event planner who arranged many of his book parties. He should be able to manage to get himself and Kate at Caspar Bloomingdale's table. With Kate's skills, by the end of the evening, they'll know about anything useful Caspar has left to offer.


	7. Chapter 7

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 7

As galas go, the fundraiser for the Elite Debate Squad is pretty tame. Just from looking at the conservatively tailored suits and collection of equally conservative ties, Castle guesses that most of the boosters present are lawyers. Their contributions will serve to support a farm team of sorts for their profession. Castle had seen a few of them before in interrogations of wealthier suspects but never had occasion to talk to any of them. Any previous donations he's made to the cause have been by mail or on the web.

Caspar is sitting at a corner table. Castle almost doesn't recognize him. Since they left school, the lesser Bloomingdale has put on close to seventy pounds, and very little of it is muscle. The gray in his hair is more than a couple of distinguished patches at the temples. His skin is sallow, like some men Castle knows who spend too much time with the bottle.

The dissipated former classmate clearly recognizes Castle. After all, the writer is famous-ish. Castle responds to Caspar's wave and walks over, hand in hand with Kate. Though not yet returned to her pre-pregnancy figure, it is clear to Castle that his wife is eliciting more than a little prurient interest from Caspar. He can see the man's eyes sweeping up and down her body and staring at her breasts as hungrily as Jackson does. Castle's fingers tighten as he interlaces them with Kate's.

The couple takes seats across from Caspar who immediately signals to a member of the waitstaff. Castle orders a scotch but Kate demurs on alcohol in favor of sparkling water. Caspar asks for a Johnny Walker Blue Label. From his diminished quantity of drink chits, it is clear that it is not his first one.

Castle had expected to have to start the conversation about Michael's death, but Caspar beats him to it. His gaze rarely straying from Kate, he confides that he overheard a lot of mutterings at the private family service and has a suspicion about whom the most likely suspects are. Michael has no siblings, so with his passing, the right to his inheritance would pass to one of the Bloomingdale uncles, Seth or Noah. Caspar goes on to detail how they both have plans for expansions of the Bloomingdale empire to the West Coast and into Canada. Either one of them would want Bloomingdale assets to stay in the family.

Kate flashes Caspar a grateful smile. Castle, not at all pleased by the predatory look Caspar returns, asks Kate if she wants to dance. Kate leans into his shoulder and whispers in his ear that she doesn't trust Caspar. The fact that he kept staring at her boobs aside, he was too eager to offer information. In her experience, witnesses who act too helpful are either cop junkies or trying to hide something. Since Caspar has no history of being the former, she suspects that he's hiding something big.

Since he knows practically nothing about what Caspar's done since school, Castle agrees that they should look into their too-willing assistant's history - but tomorrow. Alexis is staying overnight at the loft to babysit for her brother. He has no intention of wasting a moment of parental freedom. As the DJ begins to play "In My Veins," he holds Kate close and lets the music wash over them.

* * *

Over breakfast, Mother reiterates what she had told Detective Ryan as she complains of the lack of progress on the solution of Michael Bloomingdale's murder. Patience is one of her least talented students as far as becoming a character is concerned. She should have been the first actor jerked back to reality, not the last. Moreover, Patience hasn't shown up at the school since Michael's murder, even though she's paid up for the rest of the year. In Mother's opinion, no struggling thespian wastes either the chance to perfect her craft or that kind of money.

Kate offers that from what she's heard from the boys, Patience has dropped out of sight. She packed up and left the apartment she was sharing with two other acting students and failed to show for an assignment from a temp agency. Neither her credit cards nor her ATM card showed any recent activity. There were no airline tickets purchased in her name either. She doesn't own a car, and she would have needed a credit card to rent one. If she left the city, she would have had to do it by train. More likely, she collected whatever she might have been paid by Michael's murderer and is holed up somewhere until the investigation blows over. Kate had passed on Caspar's suspicions about Seth and Noah Bloomingdale, but also her skepticism about them. In any event, on orders from the Commissioner via Captain Gates, the boys will be treading very carefully with the Bloomingdale family.

Castle speculates that Patience might be with Caspar Bloomingdale. Mother waves her hand dismissively, declaring that it's unlikely since Patience is gay. She explains that the girl's sexual orientation came in handy when the class was doing Shakespeare scenes where a female character was masquerading as a male. Displaying the appropriate masculine mannerisms in those roles was the one thing at which Patience truly excelled.

Castle is even more anxious to check out if there is any connection between Patience and the Bloomingdales aside from Mother's acting school. Perhaps Patience's proficiency at impersonating another gender is a clue. He intends to look for anything unusual in her history, especially as it might relate to Caspar. He'll be looking closely at Caspar too - even more closely than Caspar was looking at Kate.

Breezing out of the loft, Alexis casually drops that she'll be meeting Cary to look at apartments. Castle's mouth is still gaping as the door closes behind her. Mother fixes him with a reproving gaze. "Richard, you know very well that when you were Alexis' age, you were in some roach infested hovel with a girl. You survived, and didn't she go on to marry a congressman or something? Cary is a lovely young man, and Alexis is so much more responsible than you - well either of us - ever was. She'll be just fine.

Castle can feel his shoulders tightening. No one, not even the near-perfect Alexis is fine at 19. It's one thing to be seriously dating someone, it's something else again to be shacking up. And he's been paying Columbia directly for Alexis's housing and support. Her allowance is generous, but no way is it going to cover even half the rent of the cheapest apartment in a student slum. Where the hell is she going to get the money? He worries that her school work and possibly even her health will suffer if she works enough hours to pay her expenses. He remembers how much sleep he had to miss just to keep up with his studies while taking every shift that he could, manning the concessions at the student union. Even with that exhausting schedule, he was barely covering his bills - until he sold _In a Hail of Bullets_. Alexis has a lot of talents, but writing novels isn't one of them. Some way or another, he'll have to make sure his daughter doesn't starve.

Once he realized Cary wasn't related to a murderer, he hadn't run much more background on the boy. He'd been in enough trouble with Alexis when he checked out her too-handsome violin teacher. But now is the time to go deep - very deep.


	8. Chapter 8

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 8

Castle stares at a profile on his screen. He knew that Cary Edelman came from a family of physicists, but he'd had no clue about the details of the young man's heritage - or his financial situation. Cary's grandfather was one of the early pioneers in electronics, patenting several advances which were licensed to bigger companies. Grandpa Morris Edelman's name never adorned any edifice but a small workshop, but the royalties he collected were enough to provide sizable trusts for his grandchildren. And Alexis's boyfriend had earned more than a few bucks in his own right, winning a substantial if obscure prize for a theoretical multidimensional construct. At least it is unlikely that Alexis will starve or live in squalor.

Nevertheless, Castle expects that his daughter will do her best to contribute as much as she can to a shared household - he just hopes she won't push herself to the point of exhaustion. He'll still look for any chance he can find to help her out, but for now, he'll just have to put his mind to the Bloomingdale case.

* * *

Gathering information Ryan and Esposito don't already have on Patience Conroy is not proving to be an easy task. Castle decides to concentrate his efforts on checking out Caspar. As a Bloomingdale, even a lesser one, there's just more written about the murder victim's cousin than has been penned about an undiscovered actress. Caspar is a member of an all-male club, known for employing beautiful women both as serving staff and decoration. Having seen the way Caspar leered at Kate, that's hardly a surprise. Castle occasionally kicks himself for it now, but it's not as if he wasn't part of an organization that objectified women, at one point in his own life. He'd joined a "gentlemen's society" after his break-up with Kyra and never dropped his membership until he discovered that his former mentor and fellow member was a piece of murderous scum. Castle had patronized the place between his first two marriages but since Kate had firmly taken possession of his heart, had only returned while investigating a murder.

He'd has never been to the institution Caspar appears to frequent. While perusing the membership list for a possible contract, something catches his eye. One of the members is a Patton Conroy. Patience's brother? No, what public information there is on her doesn't list any siblings. Castle recalls what his mother said about Patience's uncanny ability to impersonate men. And Mother did say that Patience is gay. Could Patton be an alter ego that Patience used to join the group to scope out fulsome figures? Is it possible that she became acquainted with Caspar there? The scenario is intriguing, but he can't find a damn thing to back up his theory.

As far as Castle can tell, there's only one way he can gather intelligence - join the club himself. He hasn't been married to Kate long enough to completely dispel his public playboy image. He wouldn't be playing the first man seeking an escape from a wife and squalling infant either - although he's personally never had much use for married men who use a stressful home life as an excuse to philander. Richard Castle, best-selling author, will buy an introductory membership. He just hopes Kate will be willing to go along with the idea.

Kate warns him that if he shows up with lipstick on his collar or the scent of any perfume but hers on his clothes, he will suffer severe if yet unspecified consequences, but she goes along with his plan.

* * *

Castle discovers that the Eloquent Gents offers more than a chance to ogle double Ds. The members actually pride themselves on their oratorical skills. That feature of the organization provides an additional reason why Caspar might seek the place out. It's not a problem for Castle. He has no difficulty with turning a phrase, and in addition to his debating experience, he's given more than a few speeches in his time.

Once Castle's had his new members' tour, he settles into the main room where several lively discussions, as well as some enthusiastic downing of intoxicants, is going on. He's glad he arrived in a cab. If he's going to fully participate in the goings-on, he'd better not even think of getting behind the wheel of a car.

Caspar is not in attendance. That's just as well. Castle would rather not have to explain his presence to the Bloomingdale. But he notices another member who looks vaguely familiar. Any feminine curves have been well disguised, and the voice is lower by a good octave, but there is no doubt in Castle's mind that Patton Conroy is indeed Patience Conroy. Another member tells Castle that "Patton" is staying in a room at Eloquent Gents because "his" apartment is being remodeled. "Patton" flicks a couple of nervous glances at Castle, but the writer suppresses any signs of recognition. After a few moments, she seems to relax and join in a nuanced analysis of whether Ryan Reynolds should have split with Scarlett Johansson to marry Blake Lively. Castle couldn't care less about celebrity marital maneuverings. And as far as he's concerned neither of the actresses can hold a candle to Kate. Still, to keep up his cover, he weighs in on the side of Scarlett Johansson, citing his reason as how she looked in black leather as an Avenger.

* * *

Kate's brow takes on its most Sharpei-like appearance. She wants to tell the boys where they can find Patience so they can bring her in for questioning. Castle wants to wait. To his mind, Ryan and Esposito can pick up Patience at Eloquent Gents anytime. She hasn't been charged with a crime, and there's no warrant for her arrest. If he establishes that Patience was working with Caspar, then they can blow the whole case wide-open.

Kate reluctantly agrees to give him another few evenings at the quirky club, unless a want goes out for Patience. Then she'll have to let the boys know where their suspect is immediately. Castle can't help lifting her off her feet to press his lips to hers. "You won't be sorry!"

Kate rolls her eyes. "I hope you're right."

* * *

Even if the rent won't be an issue, Castle is hesitant to tour Alexis's prospective new abode. He can't fault the neighborhood near Columbia. Many young couples enjoy the facilities of Morningside Park, and he's patronized the farmers market there himself. He just prefers to think of Alexis enjoying her student years carefree and unencumbered.

On the other hand, the apartment Alexis opens with a shiny new key is a damn sight nicer than a dorm room. There are even enough built-in bookcases to accommodate all her tomes. When he was a student, he had to make do with grungy crates the produce markets tossed in their dumpsters. There's even some decent closet space, something that is rare in most New York City flats. The place is unfurnished, but his daughter informs him that she and Cary have arranged to rent some functional things until they find pieces they really like.

Castle is working hard to keep an appreciative smile pasted on his face. The words coming out of Alexis' mouth are sounding too reminiscent the chirps of birds in early spring as they gather bits and pieces to build their nests. This is all going too fast, but he can't think of a way to try to slow it down that won't boomerang and put Alexis in even a bigger hurry to establish her independence. The only useful thing he can think of to do is give her the contact number for his interior decorator. At least Mindy knows how to get a good deal on a couch.

Damn! He needs to go back to concentrating on solving a homicide. It's a heck of a lot less complicated.


	9. Chapter 9

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 9

Castle is coming out of the restroom when he hears voices from around the corner. He easily recognizes the slight soprano edge of Patience's tones, but it takes him a moment to realize that the other speaker is Caspar. He leans against the wall, breathing as quietly as he can to eavesdrop. "Listen, Caspar, when you figured out who I am and asked for my help, I had no choice. And I admit that with the way Martha Rodgers gouges for her classes, I needed your money for tuition. I still don't understand what the hell she means by using your inner self to become the outer character. But I'm done with that. I want to get out of here; go to L.A. or San Francisco. That will take money - a lot of it."

Castle could almost hear Caspar sneer. "That's not my problem. You've already received way more than your talents deserve. The police are trying to figure out how Michael was poisoned. From what I've heard from the rest of my family, the cops haven't made it very far. But Richard Castle and that wife of his have been sniffing around. If it isn't complete media hype, they've broken lots of tough cases together, when the rest of the homicide squad couldn't find their asses with both hands. You were there when Michael died right in front of them. You must have slipped up somehow, given something away. If you want to try your luck on the West Coast, go right ahead, but you're not doing it on my dime."

The pitch of Patience's voice rises as her portrayal of Patton slips away. "If anyone gave anything away to Castle, it must have been you. He's been here. He signed up two days ago. He must have found out you're a member. You've screwed over both of us. Well, it should be easier for you to disappear. No matter how many Bloomingdales you knock off to try to build yourself up, you'll never be anything but a ghost of a man."

Castle waits until he hears two sets of footsteps retreat. It's a good thing he made a mental note of the location of back door to the club. He can leave without being seen. It's time for Kate to call in the boys.

* * *

For the first time in his life, Caspar Bloomingdale is trending on Twitter, but Castle doubts that the man is enjoying the publicity. According to what the boys told Kate, Caspar asked for his lawyer, then refused to say anything else. Normally that would be a smart move. Unfortunately for Caspar, he'll be getting no financial help from the other Bloomingdales. What funds he has will not be enough to hire the kind of legal wizardry he'd need to keep him out of prison for the rest of his life.

Ryan sent Kate the video of Patience's statement. It's apparent that Mother's teachings didn't penetrate very well. He has no doubt that the tearful remorse Caspar's accomplice expressed was real - about getting caught. She was more than willing to flip on Caspar. The D.A. will still need Castle's testimony as corroboration of Caspar's involvement, as well as any other evidence the boys can dig up.

Any annoyance Kate had about Castle's presence at Eloquent Gents seems to have been nullified by her satisfaction in seeing Caspar and Patience nailed. He'd suggest a case-closing celebration except for two matters. The first is that there are only a few days until Easter and even if the infant will never consciously remember, Castle still wants to make Jackson's first encounter with the fabled bunny special. That means outfitting the loft with all the trappings of springtime renewal as well as hiring one of Mother's students to play the fuzzy-tailed role. Hopefully, this disciple will be more talented and less homicidal.

The thing that is still tying his stomach in knots is Alexis' imminent transition to co-habitation. He and Kate will be having dinner with Cary's parents the night before the move takes place. He's never had a dinner with the family of any of Alexis' boyfriends go as planned yet, and this is the most serious relationship Alexis has ever had. If Castle blows it with the Edelmans, the glacier his daughter will become may not thaw for months or maybe even years.

The meal will be taking place at Meir's, a new kosher restaurant and one of the few culinary establishments in New York with which Castle has yet to gain familiarity. While Cary does not keep to religious dietary rules, apparently the more senior Edelmans do. Alexis' old schoolmate Buttons Dutton, who is majoring in early childhood development at Hudson University, will be babysitting for Jackson. She's made him her study and been to the loft a few times to take notes about his growth and behavior, so at least he and Kate don't have to worry about a stranger being with their son. Castle had also run a background check on the Duttons, back when Button's mother took the two girls on a tour of prospective colleges. Aside from incredibly bad judgment in the choice of appellations, the family has no lurking villainy.

* * *

Coming through the door to Meir's, Castle's nose immediately catches the savory aroma of slow-roasting brisket. At least the food will be edible. After he and Kate are seated to await the arrival of the rest of their party, he peruses the wine list. For the most part, the offerings are unfamiliar or at least don't mean what they usually do. Wines that hail from Carmel are from Israel, not California. There are also a number of vintages originating in Italy and Australia - not what he would have expected. Still, the designations are familiar, from Moscato to Lambrusco. Proper pairings shouldn't be difficult to figure out.

Alexis and Cary arrive before Isidore and Esther Edelman make their appearance. From the way his daughter is folding and unfolding her napkin, Castle can tell that she is as nervous as he is. Cary puts a reassuring arm around his girlfriend as his parents approach the table. Isidore, or Izzy, as he immediately requests to be called, looks like an older version of Cary. He's about 2 inches shorter, grayer and wearing the traditional yarmulke, but his eyes have the same spark. With perceptions long accustomed to the ferreting out the behind-the-scenes secrets of the theater, Castle can tell that Esther is wearing a wig. Her clothes fit perfectly but are subdued. Her appearance doesn't scream for attention, but he can detect both solidity and self-confidence. These are people who will not be wowed by the sizzle; they will judge by the steak - or at least the brisket.

Once the waiter has taken everyone's orders, Cary brings up the subject of the apartment he and Alexis will be sharing. Castle can see immediately that the Edelmans are no more enthusiastic about the idea than he is, but also like him, they are both trying to put a lid on their apprehensions as their children spread their wings. Castle notes that Izzy chuckles when Esther steers the conversation toward Cary's latest theories about pocket dimensions. If the romance between Cary and Alexis lasts, the Edelmans will be interesting people to get to know.

One thing Castle gleans from the evening is that Meir's is a gustatory discovery. Not only is the food expertly seasoned, but it's some of the best he's ever tasted. The Cabernet Sauvignon is also excellent. For the first time in Castle history, a meet-the-parents goes off without a major flub. He hopes it's a sign.


	10. Chapter 10

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 10

Kate's announcement that she wants to go to church takes Castle by surprise. Other than a few straight-up atheists, Kate is the least religious person Castle knows. She enjoys presents at Christmas, but then she enjoys them even more at unexpected times. She's willing to go along with her friends' rituals out of respect, but as far as he can tell that's about as far as her practices go.

She goes on to explain that when she was growing up, her parents always took her to church for Easter. She and her mother would have matching hats, and after the service, there would be a big dinner with her Nonna. Easter holds some of her happier memories, and now that she has a family of her own, she'd like to make more.

That's fine with Castle. While his mother has never been formally religious, she's always been a fan of tradition, as well as occasionally going overboard with spirituality. She brought him up to enjoy the holidays. He did the same with Alexis, especially celebrations of Christmas and Halloween. Those festivities have always been part of the glue that's held his family together.

Castle is, however, not crazy about the idea of putting Jackson in a church nursery, especially on a busy day like Easter. He found out the hard way when Alexis was little that if there is any baby-infecting bug going around, nurseries at public places like churches or even gyms, provide a staging area for the germs in question to launch an assault.

Kate doesn't have a problem with his reticence. She remembers babies being held during services in her home church. Occasionally their parents took them out to a crying room if they gave out with too loud a wail. Jackson is rapidly outgrowing his front carrier, but he should still fit into it for another week or two. He's usually pretty content when he's in contact with one or the other of their bodies. Castle can have his giant bunny and the rest of his Easter extravaganza when they get home.

* * *

Other than N.Y.P.D. issue, or a baseball cap, Castle can't recall ever seeing Kate wear a hat before. It looks lovely on her, the wide brim providing a backdrop for the shiny fall of her hair. The bright floral shirtwaist frock she's chosen isn't her usual style either. She normally tends more titillating slinkiness. He wonders if Kate is just pulling another image from her memory book of the sort of outfit her mother might have worn. Slinky dress or not, he'll still have the most beautiful woman in New York at his side as the city celebrates rebirth and renewal.

With Jackson drowsing against the white Oxford shirt he's chosen for the occasion, Castle and Kate join the colorful flow of worshipers into the church. They take seats at the end of the aisle to allow for a quick escape if Jackson becomes too loudly disapproving of the proceedings. Jackson awakes at the opening chords proclaiming that the savior has risen but seems to be enjoying the music. Castle mentally tucks away the sound of an organ in the same category as bagpipes as something that evokes a positive response in his son. An organ is undoubtedly a lot easier to listen to for any prolonged period of time. He makes a note to himself to see how Jackson reacts to the opening of Phantom of the Opera.

The service is almost over when Castle detects a sharp odor overcoming the flowery scents that surround him in the pew. His eyes begin to water as Jackson lets out a protest. The words are out of his mouth before he remembers that he's in church. "What the hell?" Holding the infant tight against him with one hand, he reaches for Kate with the other as he leads the way out of the pew.

Immediately snapping into cop mode, Kate urges the surrounding worshipers to calmly exit the building, even as tears begin to pour down her own face. As members of the confused congregation mill around outside the building, Castle can hear the rising pitch of approaching sirens.

Jackson is calming down, and liquid stops streaming from Castle's eyes even before the fire department and the police arrive at the church. One of the EMTs immediately checks on Jackson, while others rush to aid anyone, especially a senior, who seems to be having trouble breathing. The hazmat team shows up wearing Tyvek suits and breathing apparatuses. Its members sample the air in the church to test for toxic chemicals.

Kate says she would suspect tear gas, except that she didn't see any of the usual delivery devices. The odor, though no less obnoxious, was different as well. To Castle, it seems like hours until the emergency responders release everyone, with the caution that they should go to an emergency room if they develop any additional symptoms. He and Kate have gone through every diaper they brought with them except one, and she had to nurse Jackson in the back of an ambulance. Castle calls the Easter bunny to get her to put off her appearance until evening. He also phones the doorman to request that he turn off the oven in the loft before the ham Castle had put in to roast lost all chance of retaining any edibility.

* * *

While many of the usual chemicals that terrorists might employ were eliminated by on-site screening tests, the full results of the analysis of the air inside the church are yet unknown - or at least unannounced. The "Case of the Crying Congregation," was trending on social media within minutes of when tears began to flow but is now being reported by mainstream media as well.

The press is spinning the occurrence as a mystery. Some of the more extreme religious leaders are suggesting that it be taken as a sign that God wants his people to weep at society's sinful state. Castle very much doubts that God would choose to gas Jackson as a way to send a message. He and Kate are both sure that whatever happened had both a very earthly and human origin. The question is what scum of a human would do such a thing and why?

He puts the church incident out of his mind when Mopsy McFluffytail knocks on the door of the loft. Jackson has very little interest in the basket of eggs in her paw but strokes his tiny fingers across the soft faux fur of her costume, cooing in delight. At least there's something to redeem the baby's first Easter.

Castle has a treat for Kate too. He presents her with a sampling of handcrafted chocolate eggs, each with a different filling, but urges her to start with the egg wrapped in shiny blue foil. He urges her to just break it open. The last thing he wants that day is another nasty surprise like his wife cracking a tooth on the treasure hidden within the rich dark shell.

Kate pulls out the sapphire pendant he had made to match her engagement ring. Castle hopes that the tears in her eyes this time are not induced by a chemical irritant. As he clasps the delicate chain around her neck, he presses his lips to the soft skin beneath her ear. Something may be rising this Easter after all. He just hopes Jackson falls asleep early.

A/N Some orthodox Jewish women wear wigs because they are not supposed to show their hair. I wasn't implying that Esther Edelman was ill, just following her faith.


	11. Chapter 11

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 11

The name of the chemical found in the church wasn't mentioned on the news, but Kate says Lanie managed to pry it out of CSU. Thionyl chloride never came up when Castle was taking AP Chemistry. If it had, he might have used it in a story. It's a lachrymator; like tear gas, it makes you cry. It's toxic and corrosive, but according to what Lanie told Kate, the amount released in the church was not enough to cause any permanent damage. Thank God! If anything had happened to Kate or Jackson, Castle would dismember the perpetrator of the evil stunt piece by piece, starting with anything between the legs.

He scans through the Wikipedia article. The obnoxious stuff is not uncommon. It's used in many industrial processes and in the production of pharmaceuticals. It wouldn't be hard for some asshole to get his hands on it. The question is why would anyone want to release a noxious agent during an Easter service in a church. The cops are looking into it, and the Department of Homeland security is too, just in case the chemical was used by a terrorist - if a pretty ineffective one. One theory the talking heads on cable news have trotted out is that the incident might have been a practice run for a lethal attack.

Castle doesn't buy that. Why would a terrorist tip everyone off? There had to be another reason.

If the stories by Dan Brown and numerous other mystery writers are anything to go by, churches are full of intrigues. Like anyone else, the clergy has enemies. Sometimes they even deserve them. He considers revenge by an abused congregant, perhaps one who'd been molested as a child. That makes little sense. Why go after a church full of innocent people?

Castle mentally runs through a list of other motives. It seems unlikely anyone would make all the occupants of the sanctuary cry for love. Jealousy? It's possible but doesn't really fit with what happened. The next one, to cover up another crime, makes more sense. Could some lesser infamy have been committed during the distraction, one that was either undiscovered or unreported? The idea is tantalizing, but uncovering such a plot, if there was one, could be complicated. This is a job for the super theory building skills of Castle and Beckett! No doubt Kate would correct that to "Beckett and Castle."

* * *

Kate chews on her bottom lip. "To cover up a crime. What crime, Castle? It couldn't be an obvious one, or we would know about it already. And it would've had to be quick, so the bastard could get his ass out of the church before the cops showed up."

Castle isn't sure about the rapid escape part. The fire department had tried to make sure that everyone was out of the building, but no one really went over the place thoroughly until the hazmat crew arrived. Someone could have concealed himself, especially if he had an air supply. Churches can be full of nooks and crannies. Castle studied that type of architecture as research for one of his plot lines.

Kate nods. "If someone stole something, something small, he could have hidden with it then slipped away later - or just left during the confusion before the cops and the fire department arrived."

Castle is beginning to picture the scene. Someone snatches a tiny but precious religious artifact. No. the theft would be noticed. Cash is out too. If that went missing, it would be reported as well. It would have to be something personal; something secret or shameful. The thief would have to have some sort of history with someone at the church. Perhaps he and Kate can uncover a relationship like that if they can figure out some way to weasel their way into the inner workings of the house of worship.

Kate's eyes narrow. "Castle we're about to have a fight."

Castle swallows. "What did I do?" Wait, why is Kate grinning?

"Whatever it was Castle, we are in desperate need of counseling. We should call the church and arrange for some."

Castle agrees that they have a deep need to make that call, but at the moment he can think of something much better to do after a marital battle. Jackson is sound asleep with at least another hour left on the time he usually naps. They really should indulge in some makeup sex.

Cheeks flushing, Kate takes off for the bedroom at a run, teasing him to catch her. He encircles her with his arms just in time for them to flop down on the duvet together. When the satiny bed-covering slides, almost dumping them on the floor, Kate giggles and pulls Castle the rest of the way down. The wood is hard beneath his back, but he doesn't care. His partner is soft in all the right places. She straddles him, bra unclasped and blouse gaping open. Two of those luscious locations are right before his hungry eyes. He doesn't know whether to touch or taste first and settles on both kinds of adoration.

She grinds against his burgeoning hardness, before reaching down to set him free. The friction of her strong fingers stroking up and down his shaft drives him to the brink of desperation before she takes him in. Her head falls back in abandoned glory as she rides. As his lips quest for every inch of her flesh that they can reach, she moans, pressing harder against him with every thrust. "Castle!"

His fingers find their target, compact, but infused with explosive power. It becomes even firmer under his touch. She arches above him. "Castle, I need…"

He knows. They shift, oblivious to the unyielding surface beneath them. His lips provide the intimate impetus for her to reach the summit as the dance of her tongue plunges him over the cliff. They are falling together, even as they lie breathless.

As the room is righting itself, Jackson loudly and clearly lets it be known that he considers nap time over. As Kate gets to her feet, Castle matches her wry smile. She shrugs. "At least he let us finish. We haven't always been that lucky."

Castle pushes himself up on his elbows. "And for that gift, I truly give thanks. Speaking of being prayerful, while you give Jackson his fill of Kate Beckett's private label, I'll look for info on the personnel at the church. We need to figure out whom to approach with our plea for marital succor."

Kate wishes him luck as she heads for the nursery.

* * *

Castle sinks into his desk chair, hoping that the church website has profiles of the staff. The short blurb on the newest of the faithful servants, Robert Stimpson, indicates that he holds master's degrees in both counseling and divinity. That would make him a natural as the brave soul who would try to save their marriage. Castle makes an appointment with Stimpson for himself and Kate, through Laura Fenholtz, the church secretary. Somehow between now and tomorrow afternoon he and Kate need to cook up something convincing to explain why their union is on the rocks. He has plenty of material to work with. Between his marriage to Meredith and his marriage Gina, there were enough boulders to fill up the Grand Canyon. He and Kate just need to pick a few of the weightiest ones. He just hopes he's inherited enough of his mother's acting talent to make his masquerade convincing.


	12. Chapter 12

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 12

Kate is sitting at the other end of the couch as she and Castle face Bob Stimpson. Jackson is dozing in his carrier between them. The two of them decided on a strategy before arriving in the church counselor's office, now they just need to play their roles. Stimpson urged them to concentrate on their own feelings. Kate is following that instruction - sort of - pouring out her supposed feelings about Castle. "This new series of stories Rick's doing. First of all, it's taking a lot of time; time he could be spending with Jackson and me. And his heroines! I know he bases them on real women. Nikki Heat is supposed to be me. And Clara Strike? I won't even describe the bitch he based her on. But I don't know where these new ladies are coming from. I can't help wondering if he's cheating on me."

Castle snorts. "Just when would I have time to cheat on you? When I'm not writing, which is what puts a very expensive roof over yours and Jackson's head, I'm changing diapers or walking the floor with him while you sleep. You may be feeding our son, but I feel like the nursemaid. I haven't had more than four hours of sleep a night since Jackson was born. I do everything for you and the baby. I'm tired - tired of hearing nothing but complaints. So maybe I spend some time thinking about women who might give their man some respect and maybe even some love. Is that too much to hope for from my wife?"

Kate swipes at the tears she manages to squeeze out of her eyes. "Rick, I do love you. If I didn't, I wouldn't care if you paid more attention to your fantasy females than the mother of your child. But I'm tired too. And I feel like you look at me like I'm nothing more than a cow you keep around to feed Jackson. I'm afraid that in a few months you'll put me out to pasture."

Castle turns to face her. "Kate, you're no bovine, and I'd never put you out to pasture. You're the love of my life! You, Jackson, you're the reason I work so hard at putting those femme fatales on the page. I want to give both of you the best life I can. Is that so wrong?"

Kate leans over the still sleeping Jackson to cup Castle's cheek in her palm. "And if I asked you to work a little less hard so I can spend more time with you? I'm not Ryan or Esposito. I don't lust after your Ferrari. I don't care about the house in the Hamptons or expensive wine. I just want a husband who'll be there for me."

"And I just want my wife with me." As their bodies form an arch over their sleeping son, their lips meet. Bob Stimpson pushes up from his chair. "I'll give you two a little privacy."

Plunging their fingers into each other's hair, Kate and Castle pull each other closer. When Stimpson is gone, Kate gives a little shake and pulls back. "Castle, our plan worked! This is our chance!"

Castle rubs his finger over his lips where he can still feel her kiss. "Yeah right!" He gets up and begins to search the church study for clues, as Kate cautions him not to disturb anything. He wonders if Kate was serious about being willing to give up the house in the Hamptons.

She assures him that she was about that, but he'd still better have enough in his bank account to afford the red wine that makes her feel all…

As he promises her that he'll keep that in mind, he notices a series of bound journals, not unlike his own, occupying a bottom shelf at the end of a wall of bookcases. When he pulls one out to look at it, he realizes that they are handwritten chronicles of the history of the church. And there's a volume missing - 1989. Could that have been what the chemical weapon assault was about? What happened in the church in 1989? He and Kate can research that when they get home Unless Bob Stimpson expects them to be making love on the couch, he'll probably be back soon.

A knock on the door signals just that. Stimpson comes in with worksheets that they can take home with them to further explore their feelings for each other. He also reminds them that they are blessed to have each other. Jackson wakes up and immediately lets out his characteristic demand for Kate's services. Stimpson suggests that Kate can use the rocking chair in the nursery to take care of Jackson's needs before the family departs the church.

* * *

"What are you smiling about?" Kate asks as Castle slides behind the wheel.

Memories swirl through his mind as he confesses that he's just experienced the best counseling session he's ever had. He explains that he and Gina had tried professional intervention, but it had never ended up like that, in or out of the counselor's office.

When Kate asks about Meredith, he can only offer that once your wife has gone off to California and had an affair with her director, counseling isn't of much help. As much as he loved taking care of Alexis, Meredith had abandoned them both. He forgave her for walking away from him, but how she can just blithely flit in and out of the life of a child she is supposed to love, is something he still can't quite wrap his mind around. He can't understand how Meredith can just treat Alexis like a girlfriend to accompany her on lunch and shopping trips.

Kate shakes her head, the faint lines in her forehead deepening to grooves. She admits that before she had Jackson, she didn't really understand how strong parents' attachment to their children could be. It had always amazed her that no matter how casual Castle may have been about other things in his life, Alexis always received his full attention. But now she understands.

Castle reaches across the console to take her hand. He really needs to order a case of that wine. Kate won't be nursing Jackson forever.

* * *

Castle scans through news items from 1989. There are a lot of mentions of Stimpson's church. Most of the blurbs were just to keep the congregation up to date. What now goes up on the website or goes out on Twitter or Facebook, used to be posted as mentions in the religion section of The Ledger. Most of the information isn't too interesting. There are weddings, funerals, births, deaths, and the formation of softball and bowling leagues. But then there is the fundraising drive to replace the boiler that exploded- and a prayer vigil for an injured church member, Harley Granger. No cause was given for the explosion. Could what happened at the church on Easter be related to the tragedy in 1989? Why did the boiler blow up and what became of Harley Granger? Castle believes that if he can find out, he'll be hot on the trail of whoever caused the worshipers to weep. The next thing he and Kate need to do will be to dig up the fire department's report on the catastrophe. Hopefully, Kate's connection to the task force can help with that. A 1989 case should be right up its alley.


	13. Chapter 13

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 13

Castle calls to Kate as he continues to scroll through the data on his screen. "Hon, you need to see this!"

Kate leans over his shoulder to regard the document displayed on his laptop. "Harley Granger?"

Castle highlights a line of information. "Look! Harley Granger was only 12 in 1989. But the articles on the explosion said he was found in the church basement where the boiler had been. What the hell was a 12-year-old doing in a church boiler room - unless he caused the explosion somehow?"

Kate pushes her hair behind her ear as she leans closer to the results of Harley's background check. "He's still very much alive, but he's living in Maryland. If he was the one who released the chemical, what was he doing in Manhattan?"

Castle points to another item on the screen. "He works for Tex-otics. I've read about that company. They develop specialized lithium batteries. Thionyl chloride would be part of the process. They also work with the government labs at the Aberdeen Proving Grounds on weapons systems. If Granger wants to be on one of those projects, he'd need a security clearance. I know how those things go, Kate. When I started working with the CIA, I had to answer questions all the way back to grade school. If it came out that Harley had something to do with that explosion, he might not only lose his project, he could lose his job. As far as I've been able to tell, if he was implicated in some way, the only place it might have been recorded would be in that missing book of church chronicles - unless there's something in the fire investigator's original report.

Kate nods. "I checked on that, Castle. That report was never digitized. If it still exists, it is buried in the archives that are warehoused in the Bronx. Unless someone doing a check on Granger knew exactly what to look for and where, they would never find it."

Castle swivels to face her, wiggling his eyebrows. "But we know, don't we?"

* * *

"It was nice of Alexis to watch Jackson for us," Kate comments as she and Castle go through the files contained in a pallet of banker's boxes.

Castle agrees that it was but adds that Alexis wanted the distraction. Cary was invited to a retreat exploring how music can be used to teach string theory. Since she's on spring break, his daughter wants to spend some of her free time with her brother. Returning to the task at hand, he checks the label on a file. "I think this is it!"

Castle locates only slightly dusty seats for them at a table where they can page through the documents together. The investigator was careful. The shards of the boiler had been gathered as clues to whatever weakness cause the explosion. The report concluded that the relief valve that should have opened to release excess pressure had stuck. There were a few remnants of an unknown substance around the valve, but they were too severely pyrolyzed to make an analysis.

Castle springs out of his chair and begins to pace the concrete floor. "Kate, what if someone made that valve stick and caused that explosion?"

"Someone like Harley Granger?" Kate interjects.

Castle nods. "Yeah. Kids get curious - especially about things they're told never to touch. What if Harley taped or glued that valve shut so he could watch the pressure gauge or something? The pressure rose too fast, and he was caught in the explosion. He felt so guilty that he told his youth director or some other servant of the faithful at the church. Whoever it was would have kept the boy's secret from the outside world, but it might have gone in the chronicles. From the quick look that I got, it looked like just about everything did. Members of the church - particularly nosy preteens- could find out that the history of the organization was being recorded.

"Harley grew up to become a model citizen after after he recovered from his injuries. Maybe he even made contributions to the church to make up for the cost of a new boiler. The explosion was the one black mark in his past, but now it may come back to haunt him. So he releases the thionyl chloride during the Easter service at a level he knows won't cause anything beyond a few tears. He grabs the book and slips away unnoticed in the confusion."

Lines flank the bridge of Kate's nose. "But Castle, if your conjecture - and that's all it is - is true, how do we prove it?"

Castle pulls out his phone and asks Siri for the driving time to Maryland. It's less than a three-hour trip to Bel Air, where Harley Granger has been making his home. And Jackson loves road trips.

* * *

When Harley answers the knock on his apartment door, Castle realizes that it's no wonder that Harley could never put the boiler explosion behind him. Scars are still visible on his face and forearms. They would certainly raise questions. Chances are that it's long been a part of Harley's medical record that he had a childhood accident. Since Harley was never charged with a crime, an FBI agent checking him out might well just leave it at that, but Harley would know the truth and fear exposure.

Harley draws a shaky breath and gestures to the couple standing before him carrying their child, to come in. "I recognize you. There was a photograph on the web. The mystery solving writer, ex-cop wife, and their son. You were at the church on Easter. How did you find me? Wait. It doesn't matter. Homeland Security is still looking for a terrorist. If you found me, eventually they will too. It's better if I just turn myself in."

* * *

Rare as that is, Castle can't think of much to say on the drive back to New York. Kate doesn't seem to be inclined to talk either. They're just letting whatever is coming out of the radio, fill the silence. At first, the strains of "Feeling Good," seem ironic. As much as Castle usually enjoys cracking a case, exposing the ancient sins of the man who'd already paid dearly for them doesn't seem to have much of an upside.

Kate begins to sing along with the lyrics. "It's a new dawn. It's a new day. It's a new life for me."

"You know," Castle muses, as much to himself as to Kate, "a new life is what Easter is supposed to be about. Harley has been carrying the weight of his secret for so many years, maybe when it's finally out in the open, he can start fresh. I for one, hope so."

Kate's hand feels comforting on his arm. "Yeah, Castle. Me too."

It occurs to Castle that when everything finally shakes out about the case and Harley pays whatever the penalty is for releasing a noxious chemical in a church full of people, the man will probably have a hell of a time finding a new job. There may be something Castle can do about that. Batteries are the sticking point of just about every wondrous new piece of electronic wizardry that captures the public's fascination. He's already invested in a startup that is researching how to make some that don't keep failing at the times of maximum inconvenience - and don't catch fire or blow up. When the moment comes, he may just be able to help Harley get a second chance. That would mean more than the mouthing of any sacred litany ever could.


	14. Chapter 14

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 14

Castle wants Kate's first Mother's Day as a mother to be perfect. He can remember times when she spent the special Sunday in May working. He was with her on a couple of them when his own mother was working out of town or had Sunday performances off-Broadway. Kate had seemed to actually prefer being on duty. He can understand that. Kate has always used her work as a shield against the intrusion of remembrances of Johanna's murder. Those memories would have been agonizing on a day celebrating motherhood.

This holiday is going to be different. Castle's first gift for Kate is a no-brainer. Once Jackson does his break-of-dawn nursing, Castle will keep his son happy and amused so Kate can return to dreamland for as long as she likes. He's also planned a brunch of fluffy Belgian waffles with fresh strawberries and whipped cream. And there will be jewelry, a sapphire bracelet to match her ring and pendant. He had an adornment made for her hair as well - even if that item of bling will more of a present to himself. He's looking forward to having a reason to pluck it from her tresses.

He made a reservation for dinner at a family-friendly restaurant, too. It will be a few months before Jackson is ready for a high chair, but Castle happens to know that Porodica has changing stations in both the men's and ladies' rooms. He can keep up his responsibilities for the day and allow Kate to enjoy herself.

The only thing standing in the way is finishing his Drake Bentley story. He has his hero and heroine hiding out in the attic of a gilded mansion to spy on the sonofabitch, Simon Putzger, who lives there. Putzger has made a practice of promising jobs to runaways and then turning the unfortunate adolescents into unwilling participants in the production of child pornography. Drake would love to beat the asshole to a bloody pulp with his bare hands, but there is the matter of several armed bodyguards, two of whom are always with the pervert. Bentley also has to ensure that the evidence he's gathered will reach the hands of law enforcement officials who are not in thrall to Putzger's money and power. That means that Drake and Grace will have to make their exit as undetected as their entrance was. That maneuver will be challenging because Bentley has no way to tamper with the security system from their present location. Drake and Grace will just have to figure out how to get around it.

Castle decides to have Grace search through some old trunks. It would be a trope for her to locate priceless artifacts. In fact, much of what she finds will be old and forgotten junk. But there will be vintage drapes – intricately crafted brocade abandoned in favor of the heavy velvet trimmed in genuine gold that now covers Putzger's windows. With the help of his ever-useful Smith and Wesson drop-blade pocket knife, Drake will cut the fabric into strips which Grace will braid into a sturdy rope. Rather than breaking a circuit and setting off an alarm, Drake will remove the glass from the attic window with his favorite diamond glass cutter. As soon as it is dark enough to cover their escape, he and Grace will make their exit into the nearby woods, where Putzger often leads drunken sojourns during which he and his twisted friends shoot whatever helpless prey can't get away in time. Finally, the impetuous pair will meet up with Drake's old acquaintance Jerry Moynihan who heads up the vice squad. The final challenge will be when Moynihan turns on Drake and Grace because he's a partner in the distribution of Putzger's sick wares. Drake will grapple with him, and Grace will kick the dirty cop where it will hurt the most. To save his own worthless hide, Moynihan will flip on Putzger, and the captive young people will be rescued and afforded support to recover from their ordeal.

* * *

Castle rotates his stiff shoulders and stretches. He checks the time in the corner of his screen. He's been writing for two solid hours. Jackson will be up from his nap any minute, and Kate will be coming home from a shopping expedition with Lanie.

Other than the not-unwelcome increase in the size of her breasts, Kate has returned to her pre-pregnancy dimensions and is looking for some things to fit her freshly recovered shape. To Castle the most enjoyment he'll get from whatever she decides to buy will be in removing it from her newly-toned figure, but he's sensed that she's been looking forward more to assuring herself that she's back in shape, than acquiring new garments. The way he sees it, having his wife secure in the knowledge that she's back in fighting form can only lead to greater delights for both of them.

Jackson sounds off, right on schedule. After retrieving the bottle of Beckett brew Kate stowed in the refrigerator, Castle goes to the nursery to feed his son.

* * *

It still amazes Castle just how little Kate buys when she goes shopping. Both Meredith and Gina would always make enough purchases to burden a pack horse. Mother and Alexis are not shy about giving his credit cards a workout either. Kate has returned just with two pairs of jeans, which she can't seem to help announcing are size four. He could have told her they would be before she went shopping. Between his years backstage with Mother, raising a daughter, and two previous marriages, he has a pretty good eye for what size a woman will wear. His ability to successfully evaluate female dimensions no longer matters. For the smile on Kate's face, he would have happily bought out Levi-Strauss.

Jackson is fussy throughout the evening, crying whenever he isn't in his swing. It takes hours to get him to sleep. It is not the night for Castle to worry about pulling a pair of pants or anything else from Kate's perfectly curved hips. When Jackson is finally ready to settle in his crib, their bed will be strictly for sleeping.

* * *

One upside resulting from the parental challenges of the night is that Kate truly appreciates Castle's gift of a few extra hours of shut-eye. He could have used some more adventures on the dreamscape himself. The first waffle he sleepily turns out is closer to charcoal black than golden brown.

Dinner at Porodica goes much better than his preparation of the earlier meal. Both he and Kate enjoy the tender lamb, and the baklava is to die for. Jackson has shed his petulant mood and gleefully waves his hands and kicking his feet throughout the meal but doesn't give out with any significant objections.

Castle tops the evening's adventure off with a horse-drawn ride through Central Park. When purchasing his tickets, he'd specified a carriage festooned with white and red roses. The driver, sporting a top hat, tails, and white gloves and provides Kate with a stool to ease the climb to her perch. Castle would have rather cupped her well rounded derriere to boost her up himself, but he regards the driver's courtesy as a nice gesture.

By the time the Castle family disembarks from the old-fashioned conveyance, clouds are gathering overhead. They barely make it to the car before the fat drops of water descend.

* * *

Rain beats against the windowpanes of the loft for most of the night, providing background music for adult-style rhythmic adventures. Castle is terrified when there is no demand from Jackson for middle-of-the-night sustenance. He hurries into the nursery to reassure himself that his son is still breathing. He expels a tremulous breath as his questing fingers detect the gentle rise and fall of the baby's tiny chest.

Jackson's first wail at 6:30 a.m. signals that the youngest Castle has delivered, if slightly belatedly, his Mother's Day present to Kate. It's the first time he's slept through the night.

A/N Guest, someone who is, let us say, a close relative of mine, got clearance to work in a government laboratory. In fact, the DOD paid for him to get a Ph.D.., in exchange for his future services. Being a native-born citizen was required. Weaponry may have been involved, but obviously he could not tell me. The check didn't go back much past junior high but even included talking to our pastor. An additional factor might have been that the person involved was third generation native born and there were clearances on both sides of the family, also going back generations. During WWI, my mother, uncle, and grandfather were all working on secret projects and couldn't talk to each other. The requirements may be higher to work for an alphabet agency than to just do some research.


	15. Chapter 15

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 15

Memorial Day has unpleasant memories for Castle, and he suspects it does for Kate as well. Three years before, the holiday was when she refused his invitation to the Hamptons in favor of a weekend with Tom Demming. He found out much later that at the last minute she had broken up with Demming hoping for a getaway with him, but unfortunately by that time he was resurrecting his relationship with Gina. Love was definitely not better the second time. It wasn't even love. A celebration that had once been a sweet family time for him had morphed into a tragedy of errors. The worst thing was that he and Kate had ended up wasting two years when they could have been together.

This year will be completely different. Castle's not going to try to recapture the kind of days he spent with Alexis and mother at his beach house. Instead, he and Kate will be doing something much more appropriate to the origin of the observance than lazing by a pool.

Esposito is part of a group that organized an event supporting the military, and enlisted Castle's help. Castle will be lending his house, grounds, and facilities along with access to the beach, to the families of soldiers serving overseas, a place to picnic, swim, play games, or whatever else they feel like doing. He's hired a couple of professional lifeguards, but he and Kate will be on hand as hosts. Jackson will occupy his new backpack to survey the action and act as a mascot of sorts.

Castle looks out at the families sharing meals on blankets spread on the expansive lawns of his beach home. Some of them have brought their own food, but he provided coolers stocked with drinks and stocked portable tables with assorted cold cuts and salads. He also fired up the grill, but Esposito soon took over outdoor cooking chores, providing a steady supply of hamburgers and weiners to the hungry crowd. The gathering is lively enough, yet awareness of all the dads and moms who can't be there hangs over the assembly.

In addition to the kids, a few dogs are cavorting around. The furry companions seem to be capturing Jackson's interest. He coos and kicks his feet every time one comes anywhere close. Castle hasn't given serious thought to having a dog since he and Kate shared custody of Royal, a golden retriever who was key to solving the murder of his master. Life will be complicated enough without a canine right now, especially since Kate will be returning to the task force in July. Still, there is no doubt that many of the children find comfort in the presence of four-footed friends.

It is not at all comforting when a boxer begins barking wildly. A couple of the vets working with Esposito accompany Castle to check out what is upsetting the pet.

They find a man lying behind some shrubbery. He appears to be asleep, but not peacefully. He is jerking and grunting as if in the midst of a nightmare. Relying on their experience in combat, Esposito's friends rouse the stranger without putting themselves in a position to be grabbed. The visitor seems confused, as if unaware of his surroundings. They lead him into the house and Castle calls 911 for medical assistance.

As on most holiday weekends, emergency services are stretched thin. By the time EMTs arrive, Castle's new guest is beginning to make a bit more sense. He identifies himself as Staff Sergeant Walter Clapper but doesn't say much else. The EMTs check Walter over, but can't find a problem in need of emergency treatment. They suggest transporting him to a hospital for further examination. Esposito and one of his friends decide to take him, while another vet assumes cooking duties.

The rest of the event goes off without incident, and Castle wholly enjoys watching Kate's contortions when she is caught up in a game of Twister. He wouldn't mind playing one later - without the participation of minors. He, Kate and Jackson will be spending the rest of the three-day weekend in the Hamptons before returning to the city after rush hour dies down on Tuesday morning.

* * *

Jackson seems happy enough in his portable crib - especially with his favorite musical mobile suspended over it. Castle and Kate are just about to retire to their own bed when Esposito phones. Kate puts it on speaker. Espo had called in a favor from a friend still on active service, to get the lowdown on Walter Clapper. Clapper's record as a member of a special ops unit was exemplary - right up until the day he was declared dead.

He had not lost his life behind enemy lines, but in the United States, specifically at the Fort Hamilton Army Base in Brooklyn. There had been fire, after which a body had been found and identified by dog tags as Walter Clapper. The fingerprints of the man found asleep at Castle's Hamptons house identify him as a very much alive Walter Clapper. So who is the dead body and how did it end up wearing Walter's dog tags? It was burned too severely to identify it by fingerprints, but the Army JAG will probably be petitioning to have it exhumed, and its DNA run.

Castle stares down at Kate as she ends the call. Had a murderer been taking refuge at their refuge? Kate points out that there's no way to figure that out until they ID the actual dead body. She advises Castle to let the mystery go until they have more information.

She works her hands up under his T-shirt, proposing that a little distraction might help. He recommends their own personal game night. Kate grins and suggests that they start with a sprint for the bed.

Kate is quick, but Castle's longer legs put him at the finish line faster. They tumble together between cool sheets where the temperature quickly rises. Neither one of them has much clothing to strip away, having spent the day in shorts and T's printed with "Families serve too!"

Castle urges Kate to pick a number. When she suggests 39, he begins to blaze a trail of kisses upward from her ankles, counting as he approaches his goal. She writhes beneath his lips, plunging her fingers into his hair and wrapping her legs around his back to bring him closer. The creaking bed protests the wildness of her flailing as his tongue draws intimate circles around her feminine trigger. A sudden crack echoes through the room as a wood slat beneath the box spring gives way. A plaintive wail sounds from the alcove where they set up Jackson's crib.

Castle can hear Kate's groan in unison with his own. Kate pushes herself up and pulls her discarded shirt over her head as Castle regains his shorts. Jackson demands a half-hour's worth of holding, bouncing and rocking before his eyelids finally droop.

Finally, Kate grabs Castle's hand and leads him back to their own now chillier bower. She points below her waist to a spot that had never quite cooled. "I think you left off here."

"I did indeed," Castle agrees. But if I pick up where I left off, you're going to have to pick up something too."

Kate trails her fingers up his thigh beneath his shorts. "You mean something around here?"

Feeling the rush of heat at her touch, he tells her that she's getting warm.

She presses her reawakening ember against his reanimating arousal. "I'd rather be hot."

The broad span of his hands against the firm globes below her back pulls her tight against his groin. "Then we'll just have to rekindle the flames together." A merciful guardian angel wills the rest of the slats to hold.


	16. Chapter 16

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 16

Kate is staring in disbelief at her phone. "Castle, the DNA from the body found wearing Walter Clapper's dog tags matches the DNA of the man you found at the Hampton's house."

"So they were identical twins? Castle queries. "Even those would have a fraction of a percent of difference from mutations and environmental influences."

"Right," Kate agrees, "but from what Lanie's told me, most databases just keep track of markers, not the entire analysis. Differences that small wouldn't pop up. The thing is, there is no record of Walter Clapper having a twin."

Castle wonders if one could have been adopted at birth. Kate shakes her head. "Espo checked. There's no adoption record either, not even a sealed one."

Castle can feel excitement coursing through his veins. "The military must have been conducting a secret cloning program and had a clone escape. When the clone surfaced, they put Walter's dog tags on him and burned his body to hide their covert activities!"

Kate rolls her eyes. "Castle that doesn't make any sense. Even going along with your crazy assumption, why would the army allow the body to be found, with Walter still around? It would almost guarantee exposure of their activities sooner or later. There has to be a more mundane explanation."

Castle can't see anything mundane about human cloning, except as a device in too many science fiction movies. There has to be a story behind how Walter Clapper - or his twin - ended up in a confused state on his front lawn. The mystery is going to keep poking at his thoughts until he comes up with an answer.

He has revisions to do on his latest Drake Bentley adventure, but as soon as he gets them off to his editor, he's determined to do some research.

* * *

Castle wryly remembers some advice he'd received early in his writing career, to write the best sentence he could possibly imagine - and then delete it. He'd made the mistake of falling in love with some of the passages his editor wants him to remove. She may be right, but he's going to have to struggle to come up with new ones that won't alter the meaning. That's not only going to require a deep dive into his beloved and dog-eared Thesaurus, but time to consider the impact of every word.

By the time he's finished, he's too fried to sit in front of his computer any longer, even to dig up whatever else he can on the two Walter Clappers. After stiffly unfolding his body, he goes to find Kate. She's reviewing the progress of the current task force cases so she can hit the ground running when she returns to work the following month. Jackson is lounging contently in his swing, a few feet from her.

* * *

Castle decides to take a walk to clear his mind. His feet know how to find the park that is a few blocks away without any input from his brain, a definite plus to heading in that direction. The playground is full of children enjoying the sunshine and temperate weather of June while their parents sit on nearby benches, grabbing a few moments of respite.

As usual, his novelist's yen for people-watching kicks in. He spots a couple talking in soft but earnest tones. If he works at it, he can just make out what they're discussing. It doesn't hurt that he gets a hint from the woman's obvious pregnancy. Apparently, the child was conceived by in-vitro fertilization. They're debating what they want to do with the unused embryos if the pregnancy yields a healthy baby. While the male half of the partnership would like them preserved indefinitely, the woman wants to donate at least some of them to other couples who are unable to conceive.

The overheard conversation triggers something in Castle's head. What if one of the Walter Clappers had come from a donated or even stolen embryo? There would be no adoption record. Walter could have been entirely unaware that he had a brother until one showed up. The scenario is still full of questions about how one of the twins came to meet his end and how Walter ended up the way he did. At least the idea of a wayward embryo won't trigger an immediate dismissal from his obsessively rational wife. That's a start, but where the trail will lead, he has no idea.

He hears the familiar siren song of the soft serve ice cream truck coming at him from the street adjacent to the green space. It's a sound he's rarely able to resist. The day will not be complete without licking a cone, but if he gets a covered cup for Kate, it may even survive the short walk home. She won't get a tempting dollop of the sticky confection on the tip of her cute nose but kissing sweet stuff from her lips is an alluring prospect. He hurries to take his place in what will undoubtedly be a long and boisterous line.

* * *

Kate scoops out the very last of her fudge topping and licks the plastic spoon. "Castle, your embryo conjecture makes a lot more sense than a rogue government lab, but it doesn't explain anything else about the two Walters. It doesn't even hint at who's the real one."

Castle acknowledges that what she's saying is true, but he has another idea. If the Walter they found is a genuine staff sergeant, then he should unconsciously act like one. His military training would kick in automatically. If there's anyone who should be able to tell if Walter is a true comrade in arms, it's Esposito. It may cost Castle the loan of the Ferrari for a week or two, or the detective may just be curious enough to want to investigate further with no bribery required. Either way, it's worth a shot. He's just hoping that Kate will make the call to persuade her colleague from the blue fellowship to continue the hunt.

Flashing a smile, she runs her tongue around the lip of the colorful ice cream container and promises that she will.

* * *

After a dinner only slightly spoiled by frozen deliciousness, Castle is surprised but tickled to find Jackson sitting up in his crib. The milestone is appearing early. The baby won't be four months old for another couple of weeks, and even if he achieved it then, he'd still be right at the front end of the developmental curve. Alexis couldn't sit up by herself until she was almost six months old. On the other hand, Alexis didn't have Kate Beckett as a mother, and Meredith was never a star athlete. Neither was Castle, except perhaps at fencing.

Nevertheless, he can feel his chest expanding while he wonders if his son will show any other signs of precociousness. He pulls out his phone to snap a picture, just in case he can't get Kate into the room soon enough to capture the moment. The photo, complete with a timestamp, will find a place of honor in Jackson's baby book.

He just manages to record the event when Kate calls from the living room, and Jackson flops down, landing on his back. Kate surveys the picture with pride but is anxious to inform him that she's heard back from Esposito. The cop will be going to see the living Walter in a rehab facility tomorrow evening after his shift. He may be able to come up with some insights into the identity of Castle's unexpected guest by sometime tomorrow night.


	17. Chapter 17

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 17

According to Esposito, the Walter Clapper who showed up at Castle's beach house is not Staff Sergeant Walter Clapper. He didn't respond to some of the lingo that is secret shorthand among the noncoms in the forces. He also didn't hold himself right and just didn't react like someone who's been in combat. The man is an impostor but doesn't seem to be aware of it.

A story spins in Castle's imagination and flows from his mouth. "A second Clapper was created for a reason. Perhaps duplicates of other Americans were produced as well. It's no secret that the Soviets maintained villages to raise spies to speak and act like Americans. Perhaps embryos were obtained to generate agents who could be trained to be swapped in for their doppelgangers. As former KGB, Putin would likely be intimately familiar with such a project. Officially, Fort Hamilton serves as a support for local military functions. If something was being stored there, say perhaps a new anti-terrorist weapon that the Russians wanted to get a look at, they could send in their Walter Clapper. If he was programmed well enough and trauma or injury put him into a fugue state, he might think he actually is William Clapper."

Kate finds Castle's narrative only slightly more believable than his clone theory but admits that it does fit at least some of the facts. She still is wondering how the real Walter Clapper ended up dead.

Esposito has a theory about that. He admits that there have always been rumors about prototypes of weaponry for domestic use being stored at Fort Hamilton. The real Clapper could very well have been part of a security force there. Devices such as tear gas grenades which might also be stocked on-site had caused fires in the past.

Castle continues his speculation. "The original Clapper discovered Clapper II and was knocked off his game by the man's appearance for the few seconds it would take to put him at a disadvantage in a fight. He still got his shots in at his opponent, inflicting a head injury, but a dazed Clapper II knocks out his twin and manages to get away before fire engulfs the storage space where Clapper I perishes in the flames."

Esposito nods slowly, and Kate reluctantly agrees that the scenario is possible but points out that they still don't have a scrap of proof. Castle isn't sure why they'd need any, for such a magnificent tale, but suggests that Lanie might have some ideas about some kind of physical markers that Clapper II might have that would yield some clues as to where he was raised. He recalls that Perlmutter found something like that in the dental work of Eliška Sokol, a murder victim on a case he, the boys, and Kate worked together. Snapping his fingers, he remembers an article he read about tracing geographical locations by the ratios of oxygen and strontium isotopes in hair.

Esposito snorts. "Bro, you really are a geek! But I should be able to get a sample off Clapper II. Right now he wants to know what's up even more than you do. It's his life, not just some chapter in your next book. But I don't know about getting Lanie to run it."

Castle claps the cop in the shoulder. "Don't worry about it. I know a guy."

* * *

To Castle, the museum feels almost like home. On his weekend forays there, with Alexis, the exhibits were at least as exciting to him as they were to his daughter. The assorted bits and pieces of arcane knowledge he gleaned from his visits have occasionally come in useful when writing his stories as well. Through his financial support of the institution, he's also managed to make the acquaintance of people who warm his nerdish heart. He's going to see one now.

He has Jackson along, riding high in his backpack. He doesn't expect the infant will remember dinosaurs or ancient artifacts, but the heady atmosphere may penetrate his baby consciousness. If nothing else, Castle's giving Kate a little time to herself, although if he knows his wife, she'll use at least some of it to stay up to date on what's happening on the task force. He suspects that despite her adoration for their son, if it weren't for having mysteries to solve, she'd be ready to climb the walls by now. He gets it. If he didn't have the release of writing, he would have a galloping case of cabin fever himself.

Castle picks up his pace as he strides toward his meeting with Marvin Tutupu. He recalls his fascination on several previous occasions when he's been lucky enough to have conversations with the museum's resident anthropologist. Marvin met Margaret Mead when he was very young and was taken by both the woman and her profession. He's a mountain of information on both obscure cultures and equally obscure analytical techniques. Fortunately, the museum has the facilities to perform them. Marvin also loves a good mystery enough to be a Richard Castle aficionado. When Castle called him, he immediately invited the writer to send him Clapper II's hair sample. He'll be giving Castle the results this morning.

Marvin is an impressive figure. Although the savant has claimed that he's small for his family, Castle would be surprised if Marvin weighs in at less than 300 pounds. Castle suspects that the brightly colored signature lab coats Marvin affects, are custom made. Why not? Marvin is unique. There's no reason why the uniform he chooses to adopt shouldn't be as well.

Marvin invites his visitor to take a seat on a high backless stool where Castle can keep Jackson atop his back. He explains that he's a fan of babies hitching rides with their parents. He's noted that in cultures where the babies accompany their mother's or fathers through their workdays, the offspring not only seem happier but tend to develop fewer maladies like colic. Marvin laments that with encroaching what he refers to, with air quotes, as civilization, such societies are becoming harder to find and study.

Castle reminds him about the hair sample. Marvin picks up a printout from his desk and hands it to Castle while explaining his findings. The hair itself is what he'd expect from someone with European ancestry if generations back. The isotopes, however, are another matter. In his opinion, whoever sprouted it lived in Asia fairly recently, most likely in Russia west of the Ural Mountains.

Castle can't help grinning. Marvin's findings may not confirm all of his theory, but they lend it a lot of weight. If he can find out if there's a training center for spies in the area Marvin mentioned, he should be able to convince even his skeptical wife that he's on the right track. More important than that, he may be able to provide some useful information to pay back the CIA. He and Kate still owe the company for their protection of Kate, the unborn Jackson, and himself. It would be satisfying to be able to come up with some useful tidbits of intelligence in return. He might even make Jackson Senior, wherever he might be, proud. If there is a facility west of the Urals, it should show up on spy satellite photos, especially if an analyst is searching for it. He pulls out his phone and enters the code to reach agent Danberg.

A/N While an embryo from the same batch as Clapper's might be expected to be a fraternal twin, not an identical one, there are a couple of ways in which the scenario I've portrayed could take place. One is if a fertilized egg splits before implantation. This could theoretically occur on Day Two, at the two-cell stage. The other way would be if the embryo is artificially split at the blastocyst stage. This is considered ethically unacceptable for in vitro fertilization purposes because it can produce nonviable embryos. However, who knows what might happen at a shady lab? Somehow embryos were ripped off for use by a foreign adversary. That implies at least one bad actor. Either way, Clapper II would not be biologically impossible. How likely, dear readers, I leave to you. This is an alternative universe story.

During my teen years, I lived about five blocks from the Museum of Natural History in New York City. Nerd that I am, I remember a date with an even bigger nerd (the guy on whom the character of Dr. Morris in A Different Shade of Pale was based) to a lecture by Margaret Mead. She was a remarkable presence.


	18. Chapter 18

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 18

Emerging from post-dawn dreams, Castle pictures a tall white-haired figure looking through a scope at a village below. The buildings and streets are all labeled in English. The man's lip-reading software tells him that the words spoken by the people talking on a street corner are in English too. Soon the buildings will be no more. There will be enough rumblings to spur the residents to evacuate, but after a few hours, a massive landslide, helped along by some very specialized explosives, will destroy everything in its path.

It's a fanciful vision, but possibly not far from reality. A small town west of the Urals was destroyed with only minor casualties reported. The destruction has been confirmed by aerial photos. The Russians could be lying about the lack of fatalities, but Castle hopes not. None of the denizens asked to have their embryos swiped.

The Russians may build another village and restart their operation, but if they do, Castle is sure that now that the CIA is on to Putin's version of _The Parent Trap_ , whatever agents emerge from a new settlement will be carefully tracked. And if two individuals, other than those already identified as identical twins, turn up in any database, they'll be checked out as well. Danberg implied as much.

His mental parade of images of his own father reminds Castle that it is Father's Day. On every previous one that he can remember since Alexis' chubby little hands were capable of hefting a tray, his daughter brought him breakfast in bed. That won't happen today, and Kate has another mouth to feed, but the family will be going out to a restaurant later. In the meantime, he can get breakfast for himself and Kate, fulfilling his supportive husbandly duties.

A batch of locally grown strawberries hit his neighborhood produce market yesterday. Rather than the enormous but almost tasteless ones that are shipped in from California, starting in February, these are small, darker red and almost bursting with flavor. They're more work to prepare. Hulling enough to fill a bowl takes a few minutes longer than removing the leaves from their larger cousins, but it is worth it. He doesn't always have the desire - or the patience - for the delicacy of crepes instead of Castle family special pancakes, but this morning he feels the urge to make tender wrappings for the sweet berries. Pureeing a few of the succulent fruits to make a sauce won't hurt either.

Kate has finished nursing Jackson but has yet to shower and dress when Castle lays out his culinary offerings on the counter. With Jackson contentedly sleeping off his first repast of the day, she proposes that for the first time in a while, they might scrub off - or whatever else - together.

Kate adjusts the water to a hot pelting spray that stimulates the blood flow in their skins and even more sensitive organs. She slides her hands over his slickened back and thighs. He was already aroused at Kate's suggestion for the morning's activities, but as the spicily scented steam swirls around them, he's at full attention. She wraps her arms around his neck, and he lifts her, cupping the firm globes that so perfectly fill his hands. Her endless legs encircle his back as he buries himself in her velvet sheath. He braces her against the back wall of the stall, thrusting even more deeply.

The rushing of the water and rattling of the enclosure create the illusion of a surrounding storm, reflecting their inner passion. Kate presses her mouth to his, their tongues cavorting in a sinuous dance. Kate's breasts jerk upward against his chest, as the ripples that presage a tsunami begin within her. He's caught in the wave, his own response coming hard and fast, as he grasps her tightly against him. For a moment the world stops, even while the water continues to flow.

Kate slowly slides down his legs until her feet reach the shower floor. Languidly, they wash each other off. As Kate wraps a towel around him, the warmth of her breath caresses his ear with a whispered "Happy Father's Day."

* * *

Lunch will be early so that Mother can attend before performing in a 3 p.m. matinee. It went without saying that Castle's clan would need a family-friendly establishment. He decided that he wanted a repeat at Meir's - if for nothing else to taste the exceptional kosher dill pickles. He would love to try their corned beef, but Ruben sandwiches are out of the question. At Meir's, meat and dairy would not be in the same kitchen let alone on the same plate, but the deli cuts are piled high, the coleslaw is crisp, and the rye bread soft and fragrant with caraway seeds.

Alexis is bubbling about a summer seminar she's taking that explores how fiction can be used to ameliorate society's prejudices. The curriculum is addressing the spurring of changes in public attitudes all the way from Huck Finn's struggle against his fear of eternal damnation for helping his friend, escaped slave Jim, through the charm of Will and Grace easing television viewers' anxiety about the gay community. She notes that there will even be a short study on Nikki Heat as a portrayal of a strong, intelligent woman. She does manage to sneak into her exposition that it wouldn't hurt if Castle could make a guest appearance to explain how he pens female characters who maintain their sexuality while excelling at their jobs. Castle's delighted by the compliment and agrees to make an appearance.

Seated in his first restaurant high chair, Jackson is surveying his surroundings. Both his hands are curled around a rattle with an animal head at each end. Castle has dubbed Jackson's toy, "Pumpy," after the two-headed push-me-pull-you character in Dr. Doolittle.

Castle is genuinely surprised by the cake that Kate obviously ordered ahead, which is brought out at the end of the meal. It is topped with an edible copy of a family picture featuring Castle holding a wide-eyed Jackson. Almost hating to cut into the pastry, he pulls out his phone to capture an image of the touching confection. Kate knows him well. The knife reveals chocolate layers with peanut-butter-bit-studded fudge frosting in between.

While he's savoring his dessert, Castle notices the arrival of gaily costumed dancers. He doesn't recognize the melody that accompanies their exhibition, and the lyrics are in Hebrew, but he catches the phrase " _Shivuli Pez"_ several times while the troupe executes kicks, jumps and complicated turns that take off one-footed and land on two. The diner's enthusiastic applause is interrupted by one gray-haired patron who rises and begins to hurl what appear to be insults at the performers. Again, Castle can't understand the words, but the hostility is evident as the tirade ends with a hissed _l'chi l'Az_.

Restaurant employees rush to calm the red-faced man down. Eventually, the dancers start another number, and the mood brightens again. Castle can't help wondering what touched the incident off. His waiter tells him that it was about Israeli politics, which like American politics can become heated at times. That just serves to make Castle more curious. He asks for the name of the song in Hebrew and English characters so he can research it when he gets home. Who knows? He might get a story out of it. Political disagreements have led to murders and outright wars. He can't wait to dig up some background on what he witnessed. But first, he is going to make sure all the leftover cake makes it back to the loft.

A/N if you are motivated to look the inciting song up on Google, (try שיבולי פז) you will find the name of the composer, Yankele. He was my choirmaster at camp the summer between my junior and senior years of high school. At the time, he was pretty famous in Israel, and it was a blast work to with him. He was a great director. He liked to put a jazz spin on things. I doubt you'll discover why the tune would upset anyone. You can find it listed as holiday music. You'll have to read on in my tale for the backstory. The curse is the short form of _l'chi l'Azazel_ , more or less the equivalent of, "Go to hell!"


	19. Chapter 19

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 19

Realizing that the case he's just uncovered is exactly the kind of thing that Kate's task force looks into, Castle calls to her. She's fastening the last button on her blouse and pushing back the strands of hair Jackson grabbed, as she comes to look at Castle's screen. "A teenager killed by a mob in 1969?"

"Right," Castle confirms. "It was at a celebration of Israeli Independence Day, May 14. There was a parade in New York. Lots of kids from various youth organizations were marching. In particular, there was a group from the youth arm associated with the Israeli Labor Party, who were socialists that came out of the kibbutz movement. There were also kids from a right-wing club whose members followed the tenets of the Likud. That's Netanyahu's party. If it was anything like today, their political differences presented an even wider ideological gulf than the disagreements between Republicans and Democrats.

"Apparently the two groups were having a folk-dancing competition. Someone got kicked somehow, and a tussle broke out that escalated when the crowd became involved. At the end of it, a girl named Havah Greenspan was killed; she was knocked out and trampled.

"The person who hit her was never identified. There weren't any street cams back then, and there wasn't any TV coverage either. Havah was a member of the more conservative group. Her family blamed the socialists, who had been dancing to Shivuli Pez. The composer, Yankele, wrote it after he was impressed by the work of a kibbutz."

Kate tilts her head in the way that Castle has found always indicates that she's skeptical of one of his theories. "So, you think that the death of a teenager in 1969, has something to do with what happened at Meir's today?"

Castle appeals to her famous if occasionally infuriating logic. "Look, Israel wasn't officially established until 1948. When the government was young a lot of the officials came out of the kibbutzim, even though only a small segment of the population lived on them. That was bound to breed some resentment. The song supported everything the kibbutzim stood for. But the rage that fellow expressed looked like it was about a lot more than politics. That was personal, Kate. What could be more personal or soul-wrenching than the death of a child?"

Kate strokes her bottom lip with the tip of her finger. "He did look old enough to have a daughter who would a have been a teenager in 1969. All right, Castle. You know I won't be back to work officially for a couple of weeks, but I can have the team look into Havah Greenspan's death. I'll give them a call tomorrow. If that poor man was her father, maybe he can find some peace. But we still have tonight left to celebrate Father's Day. What would you like to do?"

He thinks they had a pretty spectacular celebration that morning, but it might be nice to curl up together for a while. Given Kate's impending return to a daily grind, kicking back and watching the classic but still relevant _Mr. Mom_ , especially accompanied by a large bowl of buttered popcorn, would be great. And if something even more intimate follows - that would make the day just about perfect.

* * *

Castle surveys the room full of earnest faces, including that of his own daughter seated in the front row. With this crowd, he can't just get away with a reading from one of his books. They are expecting him to give out with pearls of wisdom. Unfortunately, he's not feeling much like an oyster, except perhaps for being all wet. This isn't the time to spin clever tales. Alexis has always been able to tell when he was putting her on. He expects that many of these young people have quite accurate bullshit detectors.

He begins by explaining that his female characters are drawn from real life. He changes names, places, and other details to fit the intricacies of his plots, but the personalities are just as he perceives them. He tells them that Clara Strike was based on a real CIA agent, but leaves out the fact that she turned out to be a Soviet sleeper. He doesn't mention that he had an affair with her either. Unfortunately, Alexis overheard that unfortunate bit of history, but there's no reason to share it with the world at large.

He really picks up steam when he talks about how Kate inspires Nikki Heat. He omits any revelations that he knows would upset her, but as far as case histories go, he's on pretty solid ground. He also describes how she earned the respect and loyalty of her colleagues.

Castle expresses his theory that even though physically beautiful women are all over the web, ubiquitous on TV and a staple in the movies, that regardless of gender, what people really respond to is heart and the verve to see something through. Both his male and female heroes are based on that philosophy, and he believes that it has served both him and his readers well.

The applause from his audience is gratifying and the genuine smile from Alexis even more so. Father and daughter leave the building together. They make a stop at a vendor's cart for soft pretzels, but they don't have much time to spend together. She explains that she is has joined a tutoring program for disadvantaged students and has a session shortly. Much as he would have liked more opportunity to hang with his daughter, he's proud of her. He makes the short walk to the subway, which is by far the quicker way to get back to the loft than trying to drive through midtown traffic.

* * *

Kate has news for him. Her force tracked down Havah Greenspan's father, Zev. It wasn't difficult. Over the years, he'd been writing letters to every police official, complaining about police negligence. The department has an online file on him complete with a photograph. There's no doubt that Zev was the man who had the meltdown at Meir's. Castle's hunch was right. But that doesn't bring them any closer to finding out who caused Havah's death. To discover the solution to that mystery, they'll need to talk to former members of both youth groups. After almost five decades, tracking them down will be no easy task. Membership lists would not have been computerized and are probably long gone. And many participants may have relocated to different parts of the country or even the world.

Castle is sure there must be another way. No one forgets an incident like that. If he can enlist his followers on Twitter and Instagram to put out the word, someone should respond to help solve the puzzle. It's just the kind of thing Castle fans love. But he suggests to Kate that they should talk to Zev too. It is possible that the man told the police something about Havah that was ignored at the time. He's seen signs of sloppy work police detectives, just in the cases he's worked with Kate. If there was a trail the cops of 1969 failed to follow, the details of every unturned stone will be etched into Zev's brain. As a father, Castle can feel that that with every cell of his being.

A/N If you tried in vain to copy Hebrew characters, here is a roundabout way to find them. Go to YouTube. Search for either Shibolay Paz or Shivuli Pez; they are variations of the same words because the Hebrew has no vowel markings and without a dot in the middle, the equivalent of a V and a B are the same letter. A video will come up showing an album cover. Everything on it will be in Hebrew. Hebrew reads right to left, so the two words on the right of the text spell out the name of the song. You can copy them. You can listen to the song while you're there too, but Yankele would have liked it sung with a jazzier edge and a sharp cutoff after the last word. That's the way he taught it. I don't know why this site is so finicky about copy and paste. But then they won't let writers use links either.


	20. Chapter 20

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 20

Iron gray hair and heavy dark eyebrows lend a fierceness to Zev Greenspan's deeply lined face. Kate has agreed to stay in the background while Castle converses with the man father-to-father. After decades of trying to draw attention to his daughter's case, Zev is more than willing to talk about it, especially to someone with a literary microphone.

He speaks of how beautiful and promising she had been and her plans to attend Harvard, a school that in his generation had placed quotas on Jewish students. That all those dreams should end on a day that should have been joyous is still too much to bear. Castle asks about her friends. According to Zev, they were mostly members of her organization. They had been planning a trip to Israel together after their graduation. He is sure that none of them could have meant her any harm. Havah studied, danced and prepared for a future as a doctor, and Zev couldn't have been prouder of her.

"Your forehead has that wrinkly look again," Castle notes as he and Kate leave Zev's apartment in Borough Park.

Kate presses her lips together and nods. "Zev never mentioned a boyfriend. What sixteen-year-old girl doesn't have a boyfriend?"

"Maybe she wasn't allowed to have one," Castle speculated. "Sometimes close relationships with the opposite sex are discouraged in religious communities like the one Zev belongs to. In some sects, a boy wouldn't even be allowed to touch her."

Kate shakes her head. "Zev Greenspan isn't that observant. He wasn't even wearing any kind of a head covering like Cary's father did. And Havah was a folk dancer. From what I saw at Meir's that involves plenty of touching. I'd be willing to bet there was a boy, whether her father knew about it or not."

Castle recalls the chatter at some of Alexis' teenage sleepovers. Boys were usually the primary topic of conversation. "If there had been a boy, her friends would have known about it. The girls who were close to her in her group, probably the other dancers, would have an idea who it was."

Kate shrugs. "If we can find any of them after all these years."

Putting his arm around her shoulders, Castle plants a kiss on her hair. "The Castle fan force is on the case. I can urge them along with a few more posts and tweets, especially about any pubescent lusts. Something will pop up."

* * *

Buttons Dutton happily reports that not only did Jackson roll over, but he was babbling at her. She's been taking careful notes about every move and sound he makes for her study, and declares that he's been making excellent progress. Castle queries about his son's "eh-oh" vocalization on the changing table. He's convinced that Jackson is trying to say hello. Buttons tactfully expresses her doubts but assures Castle that she will pay particular attention to that verbalization the next time she watches Jackson.

"Castle," Kate inquires as soon as Buttons has departed the loft, "what do you think Jackson would be saying hello to on the changing table?"

He feels a bit taken aback by her question."Kate, a boy has a very important relationship with the features of his anatomy that are unreachable beneath a diaper. Jackson would consider them worthy of a proper greeting."

Kate rolls her eyes. "Which would definitely make him a chip off the old block."

Castle pulls her against his larger version of the parts in question. "You've been known to give them a hearty welcome yourself."

She trails a fingertip down his thigh. "I suppose, on occasion, I have."

He presses his lips to her neck. "And what would you consider an occasion?"

Kate shoves her hands in his back pockets drawing him to her more tightly. "I think Jackson's naptime might qualify."

Castle nibbles at her earlobe. "Didn't Buttons say he just fell asleep?"

Kate grinds against the hardening beneath his zipper. "I believe she did at that."

For Castle, the tease has gone on more than long enough. He sweeps Kate up in his arms and covers the distance to the bedroom as quickly as he can. His body burns hot against the restriction of his clothes, even as Kate pulls them away. He strips away hers as fast as his fingers can manage the fastenings. They roll atop the light summer spread that Kate used to replace the winter warmth of the duvet. The slight nap of the microfiber is stimulating against skin that requires little stimulation. Kate's tongue spears between his lips, kindling an even fiercer blaze. His hands find her breasts. She moans as eager tips thrust against his palms. Opening to him, she braces her heels behind his calves. He needs no more invitation. Her intimate muscles tighten possessively around him. He draws a steadying breath, pausing for an instant. Kate is having none of that. Her mouth pushes harder against his; her tongue seeking greater depths. He is helpless against the unconscious demands of his body to move faster, plunge further inside his mate.

The explosive quake rocks them without a foreshock of warning. Kate's legs are shaken free even as Castle fights to retain contact. Slowly his arms loose from around her. They lay side by side as he allows his lungs to reinflate. Sometime, somehow, Castle is going to have to figure out how to move again.

An alert sounds from somewhere below. He's tempted to ignore it, but it is the tone he set to alert him to responses to his electronic shoutout for friends of the late Havah Greenspan. He drags himself to the side of the bed and reaches down to retrieve his cell from the pocket of the pants Kate had tossed to the floor.

The message is from a Susan Frank, who claims to have been a friend of Havah's. She says she is living in Florida, but that she and her husband are planning a trip to New York to catch a performance of _Hamilton_. She's hoping that perhaps Castle and his muse would be willing to meet with her at that time. Castle agrees, hoping that it won't turn out to be a wild goose chase. His fans have requested meetings on a variety of false pretenses before, some considerably more creative than offering a clue to a case - but they usually don't ask him to bring Kate.

Arranging a face to face conversation with Susan is worth a shot, and she won't be in New York for another couple of days. That will give him a chance to check her out. In the meantime, he can catch up on his writing. Drake Bentley is in the hands of his editor, but Castle has more work to do on Nikki Heat. He'd really like to think up an exciting adventure for Raley and Ochoa. And he needs to do something about the asshole at 1PP who keeps trying to put moves on Nikki. He's looking forward to that.

After what he went through when Sorenson, Demming, and Motorcycle Boy were sniffing after Kate, he doesn't want to make things quite that tough for Rook. He's already had the guy take a bullet for Nikki - something Castle often wishes he would have been quick enough to do for Kate. And of course, there was Nikki's sparring partner Don. That was enough. If he can minimize Jameson's worries about future competition, he'll be a happier writer, and from the comments he's heard from his readers, they'll be happier too.


	21. Chapter 21

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 21

As far as Castle can tell, Susan Frank is exactly who she says she is. She had a number of former addresses in New York City before retiring to Florida. She's also listed as a major booster of an organization that supports Israeli folk dancers. She's married to Mike Frank, a banker, also retired. They have both children and grandkids scattered around the country - and if they can afford Hamilton tickets, probably a nice little nest egg.

Castle's agreed to a meeting at Cortese, a small and relatively new restaurant in the theater district. The Franks are already there when he and Kate arrive after having left Jackson in the care of his older sister. Castle recognizes the fangirl glow on Susan's face, as well as the indulgent but amused look on Mike's countenance. He's seen them hundreds of times at cons and signings. He and Kate shake hands with both Franks before seating themselves at the table.

Their server, Rinaldo, explains that the restaurant has no printed menus because the chef prepares specialties every day according to what is superior and fresh at the market. As Rinaldo rattles the dishes off without a stumble, Castle is impressed. Both couples settle on an eggplant dish with Parmesan cheese and fire roasted tomatoes before Castle asks about Havah.

Susan is eager to tell her tale. She and Havah were both Betarot, members of a revisionist Zionist group, but they were most enthusiastic about the dancing. They tended to pair up with the boys who could dance as well. Havah fell for Gidon, an excellent dancer. Unfortunately, he was a member of the Shomrim, also a Zionist group but with an opposing ideology. Havah's father was Betar as well, as was his father who had joined the movement in Poland. She knew he'd oppose her relationship with Gidon, so she kept it under wraps. Worse, a couple of the boys in their Betar group found out about it and didn't like it at all. The girls who were part of the Shomrim would not have wanted a Betari girl going after one of their boys either. Susan thinks that in the melee, someone might have taken the opportunity to take a cheap shot a Havah and her death was an accidental result.

Castle leans across the table. "So let me get this straight. You think Havah died because of some kind of Romeo and Juliet scenario?"

Susan nods her confirmation.

Kate jumps in. "Do you remember who was closest to Havah when she went down?"

Susan scrubs her hand over her face. "It was almost 50 years ago, but sometimes I remember events from my teens better than I remember what I had for breakfast this morning." She closes her eyes as if picturing the scene. "It was Beth, Beth Kallen, a member of our group. She was the most enthusiastic Zionist. Most of us drifted away from the movement after we graduated from high school. But she went to Israel and spent a couple of years in the army. She was into Krav Maga even before that. If she had hit Havah, she could have put her on the ground."

Kate chews her bottom lip. "So this Beth Kallen is in Israel?"

Susan shakes her head. "I don't think so. Her parents were both psychiatrists. I believe that after her stint in the service she was planning on going to college and medical school then joining their practice here in New York after her residency. They had offices uptown. They might still be there. Beth has younger brothers. I never met them but she said they were planning to go into the family business too."

"A family of shrinks named Kallen shouldn't be too hard to find," Castle declares.

* * *

Castle spreads grape jelly on his breakfast toast and promptly drops it on the floor, jelly side down. He picks it up and begins to sponge up the sticky mess. "You know, I think I need therapy."

"Castle, I tried to tell you that the first time I had you in interrogation." Kate teases.

Castle decides that it's his turn to roll his eyes. "No really, Kate. I was considering seeking help for writers' block."

She sticks out her tongue and vibrates her lips in a Bronx cheer. "Writer's block? Castle, you were writing until 2 this morning. I had to practically pry you away from your computer."

Castle wiggles his eyebrows as he remembers. "That's because Nikki and Rook had to, you know, finish. But Kate, I didn't write a word for the nine months before you flashed your badge at my book party. I can describe the agony of the situation. I relive it in my nightmares. I checked out the headshrinkers, Kallen. It seems that Beth still is in practice with her brothers and she specializes in occupational difficulties of one sort or another. I could tell her about a story I'm trying to write that bears an eerie resemblance to Havah's death and watch for her reaction. I can complain that it's hack. Romeo and Juliet tales are a dime a dozen. They're a staple of romance novels, and there are about four of them on Lifetime and Hallmark Channel every week."

Kate covers the grin Castle can see is tugging at her mouth. "I'm not even going to ask how you know that. It does sound like a plan, Babe. But keep your phone connection open, so I can hear the session. And grab some pictures of Beth's office if you can. I might pick up something that you miss."

Castle is more than prepared to agree. "Roger that."

Castle had seen pictures of Beth Kallen online, but they were just headshots. She is shorter than he thought she'd be, with white-streaked gray hair and dark-rimmed glasses. She doesn't ask him to lie on a couch, but he didn't expect her to. With a mother like Martha Rodgers, he's consulted a few therapists over the years and hadn't met one who had asked him to lie down, yet. Still, she seems entirely conventional, asking him about his early life and any traumatic experiences that might have affected his present situation. Inventing a personal trauma will be even better than proposing a plotline. He can just construct a story close enough to Havah's death to trigger a reaction from Beth - if she actually was involved. He updates his fictional happeing to the club scene, but it is close enough. A woman ends up dead, after being knocked to the ground. His phone is in his shirt pocket, which should allow the sound to penetrate through the light cotton fabric. He'd managed to take a quick video sweep while he was waiting for Beth to join him for their session. That should make Kate happy.

Beth has assumed the passive look that Castle is sure therapists must practice in a mirror, but he can see her foot begin to swing; a sign of self-comforting every poker player knows. Her hand is also gripping the hem of her cardigan. If she didn't do it, she knows who did. He's sure of it. But as Kate has so often pointed out, having a suspect and having proof are far from the same thing. Getting justice for Havah Greenspan may take way more resources than he has available. Fortunately, Kate will have access to them when she returns to work after the Fourth of July holiday. For better or for worse that won't be much longer.


	22. Chapter 22

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 22

This July Fourth the Castle family will not only be celebrating their country's independence, but grabbing hold of the last of Kate's freedom from a daily grind. Much as he understands her need to return to full-time action, Castle isn't looking forward to Kate's absence from the loft. It's not that he feels inadequate to take care of Jackson. He and his son do just fine. It's just that he'll miss her. He's going to jam as much togetherness into the weekend as he can.

They will have company in the Hamptons house. Mother will have performances and be unable to drop in, but Alexis and Cary will be coming. He doesn't expect that their presence will be intrusive on his time with Kate. The young couple is so lost in each other that they will probably spend their hours in the sun strolling hand in hand along the beach or doing other things he'd rather not think about.

Other than the obligatory holiday barbecue, he and Kate won't be spending much time cooking. He made sure that the housekeeper stocked the fridge with an assortment of deli items that they can stuff into sandwiches or just open and eat.

Jungle-like humidity has descended on the city, spurring a mass exodus to find relief in the waters of the Atlantic and the ocean breeze. The ordinarily uncrowded beach below Castle's grounds may end up well populated. Fortunately, his pool is private. His usual preference is to use solar heating to keep it warm, but with the current weather, a cooler temperature will feel good. It's still a little early for Jackson to get his first swimming lessons, but the baby may welcome the chance to paddle his hands and feet in the water while supported by parental arms. Both Castle and Kate have had to do enough wiping up after their son's baths to know how much he enjoys splashing.

* * *

As she floats on her back, Kate's new bathing suit looks breathtaking. Still self-conscious about stretch marks, she's shied away from bikinis, but the ruby red one-piece hugs every toned curve and leaves little doubt that she's still the source of Jackson's nourishment. Castle would love to strip it off her, but Jackson is wide-awake in the portable playpen they've brought poolside. Also, as soon as she's out of the water, he'll have to start the grill. Like the college students they are, Alexis and Cary will be arriving just in time for lunch.

With Kate intent on keeping her abdomen taut and Alexis attempting to avoid the "freshman 15," he's making chicken. It's already marinated but will take a lot longer to reach a safe temperature without burning, than hamburgers or hotdogs would.

The air is becoming even more oppressive and what were white fluffy clouds have now darkened to an ominous gray. He can hear the first rumble of thunder in the distance. Looks like he won't have to worry about outdoor cookery after all. He calls to Kate. It doesn't take more than his finger pointed at the sky to get her out of the pool. She towels off quickly and picks up Jackson while Castle folds the playpen to carry it into the house.

* * *

Cary and Alexis are late, their drive slowed to a crawl by the pelting rain. They're both drenched by the time they've made the short run from Cary's car to the front door of the beach house. As the torrents beat against the windows, Castle would not dismiss the possibility of animals lining up two by two. He has the chicken under the broiler and a large pot of boiling water ready to receive the corn on the cob Kate is shucking. While Alexis and Cary are drying off, Kate also performs the honors on a watermelon, the sharp crack of her chef's knife hitting the cutting board and echoing off the tile in the kitchen.

Even with soggy guests and a lack of grill marks, the holiday feast is a merry occasion. Alexis is anxious to talk about both her seminar and her tutoring project. Castle can see Cary struggling to figure out how much he has to dumb down his discussion of the relationship of string theory to music, for consumption by a mystery writer and a former cop. All things considered, Castle thinks the young man does an admirable job.

Except for Jackson, everyone helps to clean up. Much as he could have done without the dampening of the celebration, Castle is grateful to be spared the chore of scraping charred bits of chicken from a grill rack.

With pool play and beachcombing on hold Castle hauls out the puzzles and board games that bear witness to summer evenings spent in the Hamptons with Alexis when she was growing up. The one game Castle doesn't want to play is Clue. He is firm in his resolve to put off detecting - at least for the long weekend.

The group decides to put together a giant jigsaw puzzle of fireworks exploding over the water - seeing as it is unlikely that they will experience the real thing in the deluge. After hours of fitting together 999 pieces, the picture is almost finished except for one missing piece. Alexis remembers that the piece went missing when she was six and she "accidentally" flushed it down the toilet.

* * *

Castle stares at what, although less than an inch wide, appears to be a gaping hole in an otherwise perfect scene. He hears Cary come up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. "I know how you feel. It's like solving one of your mysteries. You can't stand not finding the one element that completes your story. When I'm working on a theory, I'm the same way. Everything is about filling in the missing factor so that the whole thing makes sense. But I think I know how we might be able to fix this. Do you have a printer here that works with your phone or your computer?"

Castle nods. "I have a 3-in-one. It works with both."

Cary claps his hands together. "Great! If your phone has a zoom, we can take a picture of the top of the puzzle box and capture the section where the missing part is. Otherwise, you can send your picture to your computer and enlarge and crop the area we need. It wouldn't have to be by a large enough factor cause much distortion."

Castle shakes his head. "No computer enlargement necessary. I can zoom in on part of an image on my photo app without losing much definition and then capture the result with a screen shot. I see what you're getting at. If I can print out that part of the puzzle, we can make a piece to fill in what's missing. I think I even have some cardboard and glue around here that we can use to make an insert that's reasonably sturdy. We can trace the hole to make our fill-in the right shape." Castle is delighted with how quickly he and Cary replace the missing sky-sparkles.

Kate recognizes the expression on Castle's face as he surveys the completed picture. "What's rattling around in your brain, Babe?"

He can't help grinning at her. "I know I said I wasn't going to think about Havah Greenspan's case while we were here, and I won't anymore. But I just realized that even without street cams and TV coverage, someone is always taking photographs at a parade. That would be even truer if a rumble broke out. The pictures might have made The Ledger, or if not, perhaps the Jewish News. Either way, they'd be in a newspaper morgue somewhere. If we're lucky, those photos will have our missing piece - whoever dealt Havah her fatal blow."

Kate sighs as she pushes her hair behind her ear. "It's a long shot, Castle."

He agrees, but if he can find the right images, it will shrink a decades-old haystack.


	23. Chapter 23

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 23

It is evident to Castle that the Zionist Times operated on a shoestring in 1969 and isn't doing much better now. The morgue indeed is a morgue, as in where newspapers go to die. There are no microfiche, and nothing was digitized until the publication went online around 2010. Until then, it was strictly dead tree with the emphasis on dead. Apparently, in the choice of paper, every expense was spared, with the high acid content turning back issues yellow and crumbly.

Castle slips an issue from May 1969 into a clear protective sleeve so he can handle it without destroying it. He doesn't have much time. Alexis is with Jackson, but she has two tutoring sessions scheduled for the afternoon. He needs to relieve her in two hours or less, and he promised Kate that he'd stop by City Hall to pick up the milk she expressed on her break that morning.

He pulls a magnifier lit by a circle of tiny LEDs out of his pocket. For a newspaper shot, the resolution of the black and white photograph he is examining isn't bad. With some help from old pictures Zev loaned to him, he is able to pick out Havah by her hairstyle, the shape of her nose and general body type. He imagines that a facial comparison program might be able to do better, but he's pretty sure he has the right girl. There are several flying body parts in the picture, and one of them is a fist approaching Havah's temple. He had half expected to see it attached to a young Beth, but it clearly belongs to a teenage boy. Is it Gidon? Why would he want to hit his girlfriend?

Castle notices what looks like a mark on the back of the hand of the boy aiming the blow. It could be a flaw in the picture, perhaps an artifact from the printing process, but Castle remembers noticing a birthmark on Beth's hand. If it is a family trait, one of her brothers might have one as well. He remembers the video sweep of Beth's office that he took for Kate. It included a group shot of the practice. If he recalls correctly, there is a copy of the same picture on the Kallen Psychiatry Practice website. He brings the site up on his phone and uses his thumb and forefinger to enlarge the image. He still can't make out the shape of the mark, but Beth appears to have one. So does her brother, Russell. Could he be the source of the flying fist? Castle can ask Kate to run background on Russell and then do some checking of his own when he returns to the loft.

* * *

Jackson is unhappy. It's not like Kate has never been out of the loft before, but he seems to sense the change in routine and doesn't like it. A fresh supply of Kate's milk from that morning helps a bit, but Castle can understand that it's not the same as cozying up to the source. Castle feels the same way. There's nothing like the real Kate Beckett. He decides to put aside his research and distract his son with a walk - the bumpier, the better.

* * *

The holiday storm provided a respite from the July humidity, and there's even a slight breeze blowing as Castle takes the route he knows has the most cracks in the sidewalk. It goes past the produce market which is always an interesting place. When Alexis was little, he used it to teach her shapes and colors.

He doubts that Jackson can retain anything he tells him, but he decides to go through the lesson anyway. The shop smells good, and the Castle household can always use some fresh fruit. Kate loves to pop grapes into her mouth, and he enjoys watching her. Sometimes he enjoys it too much. Unfortunately, the New York grape harvest isn't until August. Apples, cherries, plums, raspberries, and strawberries are in stock. He can make the lesson about red and purple, and he can undoubtedly portray round. As a bonus, Kate is pretty sexy eating cherries too.

Castle's chest expands as Jackson babbles an "ah" when he shows him an apple. It could be meaningless, but the boy may also have an oratorical future. In any case, the infant is in much better humor than he was when they left the loft.

When they return, Castle sets up the baby swing next to his desk. With Jackson's calm maintained by the rhythmic motion, Baby Daddy can get back to his research. Russell Kallen appears to be quite a bright light in the psychiatric community. He's published multiple papers. His specialty seems to be anger management in the workplace. Castle wonders if Russell's expertise with anger springs from firsthand experience. As tantalizing as his speculation may be, the academic treatises are of no help. Any profiles of Russell that accompany them are strictly professional, and there aren't any pictures.

Castle shifts to social media. Russell isn't on Twitter or Facebook. He does have a LinkedIn page, but it only has a headshot and his qualifications as a shrink. There has to be something else. If he was at the parade, could he be into folk dancing like his sister?

Booyah! Look who's on the board of the Society for the Support of Middle Eastern Performing Arts. There is Russell in all his glory, complete with a history of his interest in Israeli folk dancing. Sure enough, it dates back to his teen years. There's also an old picture of Russell executing a dance move in which the boy scoops the girl up in his arms. The mark is clearly visible on the back of his hand, but he doesn't seem to be enjoying the experience much.

Castle searches for more recent pictures of Russell tripping the folk fantastic. He finds him in a circle of men doing something called a Flying Horah. He is supporting another man who is being lifted off the ground by the force of the dance. The caption identifies all the dancers in the picture. Castle can feel his mouth drop open. The flying dancer clinging to Russell's arm and shoulder is Gidon Arad. Havah's forbidden love was named Gidon. It can't be a coincidence. Maybe the case was never Romeo and Juliet, perhaps it is Romeo and Mercutio. Castle continues his search, not discovering anything that will either support or disprove his theory, but Kate has access to information that is blocked to him.

He glances down at his son. "We both want Mommy to come home, don't we? You want to latch on and snuggle up. I wouldn't mind latching on either, both to her personage and whatever info she's managed to glean on my prime suspect. And I want to watch her eat some of those cherries you found so fascinating."

Castle can see Jackson's gaze shifting up at him. The baby babbles "eh."

Cherries? Could his son be trying to say cherries? He decides to run his own little test. He dangles a cherry in front of Jackson who repeats, "eh." Unfortunately for his theory, when Castle produces an apple, he gets the same response. So maybe the kid isn't a linguistic savant. It took a little while for Alexis' brilliance to assert itself. He'll just have to see what happens next.


	24. Chapter 24

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 24

Castle can feel his eyebrows rising. "Russell Kallen has a juvie file?"

Kate nods. "It's sealed, and we'll need a lot more than an old newspaper photo and a birthmark to get it open, but he has one. And that's not all, Castle. Russell started college at SUNY Buffalo. Apparently, it was one of the few schools with a decent molecular biology department at the time. He left after his first semester. The college was mum about why, but there's a record of the police being called a couple of times. He transferred to the University of Chicago and became a psych major. He ended up at the same medical school his parents had attended and did his residency at the same hospital. In both cases, it appears that his parents made substantial donations."

Castle can see a picture forming. "So they got their problem child the hell out of Dodge, then smoothed his professional path with an open checkbook."

Kate hunkers down in front of Jackson and answers over her shoulder. "Looks like that's what happened, but somewhere along the line, Russell became a good citizen. He's had a sterling reputation for decades."

Castle had gleaned as much from his own research. "Then if we want to figure out what happened with Russell and Havah, we need to find the person from 1969 who would be most likely to know. We need Gidon Arad."

When Castle launches his search for Gidon, he is surprised to find the Arad name popping up in old issues of Variety as a dancer turned choreographer. If there's anyone who would know how to get in touch with him, it's Mother. Castle knows she's got a performance that night, but with any luck, he can enlist her services the next day - as long as it isn't too early.

* * *

By way of encouragement, Castle slides a fresh fruit plate and the obnoxious wheatgrass concoction she loves in front of Mother. She takes a thoughtful sip of green sludge. "Gidon Arad. Yes, I have worked with him. He never made it to Broadway, but his work in summer stock and some of the smaller theaters was quite good. As I recall, he toured a lot, but as far as I know, he's not attached to any shows right now. There was never much gossip about his personal business, but I remember hearing something about cancer and some speculation that it might be related to HIV."

That could fit in with Castle's Romeo and Mercutio scenario. "So he's gay?"

Mother shrugs. "Gay, bi, straight, who cares these days? But whatever his private life is, he's kept it private, which is not easy in the theater."

Castle wonders if Mother knows if Gidon is in New York. She doesn't, but she thinks it won't be hard to find out. Even if he's not physically up to working, she believes he may be mentoring young dancers and choreographers. In her opinion, hardly anyone in the craft ever leaves it entirely if they can help it. Closing her eyes to savor a fresh strawberry, she promises to make inquiries.

* * *

Castle has spent enough time backstage to know that dancers rarely show their age, but Gidon Arad is showing his. When Mother delivered the news of Gidon's residency in a nursing home run by a Jewish charity, Kate made arrangements for Castle and herself to visit. They find Gidon in a common area, chatting with a man who looks to be at least 20 years older than the choreographer, but with brighter eyes and a much readier smile. Gidon introduces his companion as Max, a playwright, then suggests they go to his room to talk.

Gidon tiredly admits to knowing both Havah and Russell. He explains that though he was extremely fond of Havah, he was never head over heels in love with her, but he believed that she was considerably more serious about him. They enjoyed dancing together when they could, but any other physical contact never went beyond hand holding and exchanging a few kisses.

When Havah introduced him to Russell, it was as if lightning struck for both boys. Gidon and Russell spent as much time as they could steal, together. For Gidon, the ideology of the Shomrim made that problematic. The boys and the girls were not often segregated. They even changed into their costumes in the same room. Choosing to be too close to a boy, especially a Betari, would have been viewed as suspect.

He and Russell did the best he could to keep their relationship under wraps, but one day Havah caught them in what she regarded as in flagrante delicto. She rushed away, and he could hear her throwing up. When she finally talked to them, she told them that if she ever saw them together again, she would go straight to the senior Kallens. At the time, homosexuality was thought of as a mental illness. Russell knew that his parents would either subject him to therapy or worse, put him in a facility for treatment. Even though he and Gidon decided to stay away from each other, Russell was still scared.

After Havah died, Russell came to Gidon and confessed that he had hit her. He never meant to kill her. When the fight broke out at the parade, he just took the opportunity to send a message. For a long time, Russell couldn't handle his part in Havah's death. He and Gidon still saw each other, but Russell got into all kinds of trouble. He didn't really learn to live with what he'd done until he went through the therapy that was required of anyone who wanted to be a psychiatrist. He and Gidon finally fully parted ways, and Gidon went on to other lovers. Unfortunately, his choice of partners was never the wisest. Now, Gidon doesn't want to die with the secret he's been keeping, and he believes Zev Greenspan deserves to know the truth.

Gidon stares at Kate. "So what now? Will the police go after someone who has spent the majority of his life helping people, for what happened because of one stupid moment when he was 17?"

Kate has to tell him that she honestly doesn't know. There is no statute of limitations for murder, but Russell committed the crime as a minor. Gidon didn't witness the act, so his testimony would be unlikely to secure a conviction. The D.A. might decide not to bring charges or try to get Russell to plead to a lesser offense. She adds that whatever happens, Zev Greenspan needs to know the truth. Gidon pushes back thinning white hair and slowly nods.

* * *

Castle is making plans for Labor Day when Kate delivers the news that in accordance with a plea deal, Russell Kallen was sentenced to a fine and a year in prison for negligent homicide. He will be losing his medical license, but under the circumstances, the judge has decided to allow him to spend his incarceration as a volunteer in the Mental Health facility at Rikers. There is an irony to it. Variety had just published Gidon Arad's obituary. If Russell had managed to wait just a couple more days before pleading out, there would have been no one to testify against him and no case. At least this way, there is some small amount of justice for Havah and a measure of peace for Zev.

A/N Max is based on my late Uncle Max who was a playwright in New York City. Unlike Castle, his work was actually produced. When I was little, I used to sit on his lap when he was at the typewriter, and I couldn't resist giving him a cameo.


	25. Chapter 25

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 25

Castle watches Kate page through a file - again. "The Labor Day weekend is supposed to be for the celebration of labor, not the practice of it, Hon."

Kate looks up at him, sighing. "I know, Babe, but I just feel there's something in here that I'm missing and it's driving me crazy."

Castle can see that. "Want me to take a look? You know how I am with obscure details - the more obscure, the better."

Kate shrugs and hands him the folder. His eyes sweep over the entries. "Hmm. John Dolan, a construction worker; that's appropriate for the holiday. And he stopped a bank robbery? Wow, he distracted the robber so that his teller girlfriend, Janet Merriweather, could activate the silent alarm. Good man. The robber pistol-whipped him, but he was all right until a week later when he was the victim of a mysterious and fatal mugging. The cops always thought the two events were related, but they couldn't find the connection or the killer. Looks like they really grilled the girlfriend; crappy thing to do when her lover had just died."

Kate rolls her eyes at him. "Castle, you know that more often than not it's the spouse or significant other."

Castle nods. "Uh huh. But a mugging? If Janet was sleeping with John or was just around him a lot, she could have easily poisoned him. It would have been a very feminine thing to do. And if she was soothing his fevered brow while he was recovering from having a gun smashed into his head, slipping something to him would have been a piece of cake. I think the bank robbery is your classic red herring. Dolan may have met his end because of something else entirely. And if we're playing the odds, if it wasn't about love, the most likely motive would have been money. But if that's the case, no one is going to be digging up financials, especially old financials, until Tuesday. After you've relaxed and recharged, you can attack Dolan's case with fresh eyes."

Kate grudgingly agrees. Castle watches with appreciation as she rises from her chair and stretches, her breasts pushing against the fabric of her blouse. In another couple of weeks they'll have the pediatrician's approval to introduce Jackson to solid foods and Castle expects that Kate's bust line will gradually decrease to pre-pregnancy dimensions, but until then, he will glory in his every view of Mother Bountiful.

He and Kate don't have any travel planned. The temperature has been predicted to rise to 95 degrees and a sudden drop in the price of gasoline will make holiday traffic even more bumper to bumper than usual. He, Jackson, and Kate will be hunkering down in air-conditioned comfort.

That's not to say he isn't prepared to celebrate. When Castle and his son made their field trip to the butcher shop, he could feel his mouth watering as Ralph the master meat cutter sliced thick steaks. He can suitably sear them on the grill that occupies the rear of his upscale range. He also has massive baking potatoes and all the fixings including bits made of real bacon, not formed soy product. The salad greens in the fridge are fresh as are the veggies he's prepared for use with his signature dip. For sweet treats, he baked monster cookies with chips, chunks, and M&Ms as well as stocking in three flavors of ice cream, fudge topping, and extra whipped cream.

Jackson has a brand-new infant play gym to keep him busy. Between that and the ever-faithful baby swing, Castle is looking forward to the most time he's had to cuddle with Kate since she returned to work. Together they planned the video marathon to justify spending time vegging out on the couch. Castle's even rented a movie-style popcorn maker for the occasion.

While Castle wanted to view the three original and in his opinion best, Star Wars movies, Kate insisted that they should watch every episode of Nebula Nine. Castle agreed as long as he could add in his favorite original Star Treks, _The Naked Time_ , _The City on the Edge of Forever_ and _I, Mudd_. Kate is also determined to watch the Temptation Lanes she recorded over the last two weeks. Castle is fine with that as long as images of his mother with the venerable lead Lance Hastings don't invade his brain.

* * *

Castle is letting his mind drift as the soap opera unfolds until there is a scene at a construction site. A newly introduced hero is trying to erect the building complex of his dreams, a mix of affordable apartments, shops, studios for nascent artists, and office space for struggling writers. Of course, nothing on a daytime drama is without angst and peril. The mob is trying to muscle in on the project, threatening the supply of concrete and menacing the workers.

Castle hits pause. "Kate, John Dolan was in construction. Organized crime in New York is into that business up to their eyeballs. What if the mugging wasn't a mugging? If Dolan refused to play ball, one of the families could have put out a hit on him."

Kate grabs the remote control. "Castle, you were the one who didn't want me to think about work this weekend. Anyway, Dolan wasn't killed with a mob-style bullet to the back of the head. He was beaten to death. If it wasn't a mugging, it wasn't a contract killing either. Whoever did it was angry."

Castle wasn't about to give up. It can't hurt to reach out to his favorite capo, Sal Cardano. Sal's memory is almost as good as the clam linguine in his restaurant, and he knows what fingers were in what pies. If the mob did have anything to do with Dolan's death, Sal should be able to steer him in the right direction. He can even bring Jackson along when he asks him. For the Cardanos, however dirty their activities may be, family is everything. With a plan in mind, he starts a new batch of popped corn and settles himself back down beside Kate.

* * *

As the android torturer screams, "Harcourt Fenton Mudd, you've been drinking again!" Castle winces. Much as he loves seeing the villain of the piece get what's coming to him, he also has a certain sympathy for his plight. Harry wanted to get further and further into space to escape his shrewish wife, and Castle had often felt that way about Gina. It wasn't that she screamed at him. That might have been easier to take, especially with an appropriate set of earplugs. It was just that whenever she disagreed with him, instead of settling it with an argument, she'd beat a glacial retreat.

If there's one thing Kate seldom does, it's retreat. She doesn't encourage conflict. In fact, he sometimes finds the white lies she tells to avoid it, infuriating. But when faced with a serious problem, she can attack it head-on. The bigger the problem, the harder she fights. It's what made her a great cop, and she's still a magnificent muse. He knows that she will push until she find's John Dolan's killer. She could never do anything else. He'll help her along however he can - Tuesday. He pulls her into his lap. Until then, he can explore the multitude of his wife's other virtues.

A/N I am dying to be able to write _The Rookie_ stories, but I don't know enough about the show yet to do it well. For now, I've just dropped a couple of Easter eggs.


	26. Chapter 26

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 26

Sal Cardano twirls his linguine against the side of the bowl. "The death of a construction guy in 1994? Castle, there could be a hundred of them in the concrete around the city."

Castle reaches down to hand Jackson the toy he's hurled from the tray of his high chair for the sixth time. "That's just the point, Sal. John Dolan didn't become part of New York's architectural heritage. The police thought the killing looked like a mugging, except that the guy was beaten to a bloody pulp. What mugger wants to take the time to do that? He'd be begging to get caught. If he wanted to keep Dolan from following him or calling the cops, he could have just slugged him or shot him and run. Dolan must have really pissed someone off."

Sal closes his eyes as he savors the meat sauce on his pasta. He slams his palm on the table rattling the silverware, "Yeah, I remember there was a building going up in 1994. There wasn't much business there for us. It was old style, lots of stuff reclaimed from demolished buildings. Not a lot for our waste disposal guys to do. We sold the contractor the concrete for the foundation, but that was weird too. He paid a premium for the good stuff. But I think I remember a story about the place. Two of the soldiers from the family had to break up a fight because there was some crazy running around. He claimed that some of the materials came from a business his family had operated for generations. He accused the builder of bribing some bureaucrat to get the place condemned so he could get his hands on some vintage tile. Nuts! Back then even we had problems greasing palms. Rudy was making a big show of cleaning up the city. Pain in the butt! Come to think of it, John Dolan might have been the builder. As far as I know, that was the company's last project. Could have been because the owner was knocked off. Hey! Your kid's got quite an arm."

Castle walks three booths down to retrieve the toy a seventh time before sliding back into his leather upholstered seat opposite Sal. "I don't suppose you'd remember the name of the crazy?"

Sal dabs at the sauce on his mouth with a cloth napkin. "Nah. I don't know if I ever heard him called anything your _bambino_ should hear. But the name of the building company was Rise Again. Catchy, huh? But it didn't rise again. Never laid another brick. Figures, if Dolan was the owner."

Castle nods as he reaches for a breadstick. "That, it would."

* * *

Kate waves her hand in front of her nose. "Castle you could have gone easy on the garlic."

Castle takes a couple of steps back. "I think Sal's chef puts it in everything. Maybe he's afraid of vampires. It was worth it. Sal agrees with you that it wasn't a mob hit. But he gave me a lead on who might have had it in for Dolan. I did some checking, and he could have been right about that too. Dolan had a construction company that went out of business after he was killed. Can you run a check on any incidents involving Rise Again? The way Sal described things, someone was making threats. The police might have been called."

Kate chews on her lip. "If someone made threats against Dolan, it should have made it into his file, but maybe the detectives didn't see it as connected to a random mugging. They might not even have checked, and it wouldn't have been cross-filed. A lot of that stuff still isn't. Ryan's said for years that there should be some sort of automated system, so that information from all the divisions gets consolidated. He's right. It would save a lot of time and probably raise the closure rate."

Castle can recall thinking the same thing more than once. "Why isn't there one? Oh, let me guess. Budget."

Kate closes her eyes and sighs. "The department's excuse for everything from outdated equipment to broken vending machines. Maybe next time the Commissioner shows up for a poker game, we could have a little _tête à tête_ with him - after he demolishes some of the good scotch.

Castle can picture the scenario. If what Kate described is all it would take to get an upgrade of the department's database going, it would be worth a case of scotch. But he envisions an even more pleasurable scene. "Hon, suppose I take a shower and drown my mouth in concentrated minty freshness." He wiggles his eyebrows. "Then perhaps we can have a _tête à tête_ of our own."

Kate sniffs the air. "After your shower, I'll see just how close I want your head to be."

Castle decides that next time he talks to Sal, he'll stick with a salad - no dressing.

* * *

Castle eagerly takes notes while Kate tells him about Detective Vinnie Scolino. "Vinnie was a beat cop in 1994. It wasn't his favorite time in his career. He wasn't a fan of the 'stop and frisk' policy. A lot of the guys he played football with in high school were black, and he didn't like seeing his old friends harassed. He spent as much time as he could interacting with the residents in the neighborhood he patrolled and trying to help out with any problems they had.

"Vinnie remembers John Dolan. Not only did the man pay a decent wage to some of the guys he knew growing up, but he also seemed at least as interested in his crew being safe on the job as he was in turning a buck. John was not the kind of man Vinnie thought anyone would have a beef with, but a Ben Cordwainer couldn't leave Dolan alone. He trespassed on Dolan's construction site a few times, then escalated to threatening John and his workforce. Vinnie filed several reports about it. On the books, threatening someone with physical harm is a crime. He could have arrested Cordwainer, but his watch commander back then insisted arrests like that were a waste of time because they were too small potatoes for the D.A. to bring charges.

"The most Vinnie could do was try to keep an eye on the construction site, especially if he spotted Cordwainer in the area. But the alley where Dolan was found dead, wasn't on Vinnie's beat. He went to Dick Graham, the detective in charge of Dolan's case, anyway, and suggested looking into Cordwainer's whereabouts at the time of death. From what Vinnie told me, since Dolan had visited an ATM not long before his death, Graham had already decided that the crime followed the pattern for muggings. He ignored Vinnie's suspicions."

Castle can see on Kate's face what she thinks of Graham. He's already heard her opinion on cops who put crimes into boxes - whether they fit or not. Cheeks flushed, and not in a good way, Kate continues to relate what Vinnie told her. "Once Dolan was dead, Cordwainer disappeared from Vinnie's radar, and he still had a neighborhood of New Yorkers to protect. He had had to hope that Graham's theory of the crime was right. I checked. Graham died of a heart attack, but there is a DMV record for Ben Cordwainer. I plan on paying him a visit."

Castle can't wait to hear what happens when she does.

A/N Guest, If I write _The Rookie_ stories that doesn't mean I'll stop writing Castle stories. I never stopped writing Castle stories when I was writing Con Man stories. I can multitask.


	27. Chapter 27

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 27

Kate drops her purse on the floor and sinks down on the couch. Castle hunkers down in front of her. "Looks like your grilling of Ben Cordwainer went up in smoke."

Kate shoves her hair behind her ear. "There was really no Ben Cordwainer to grill, Castle. When I got to his apartment, his sister answered the door. She warned me that I wouldn't be able to get much out of him. He didn't look dull, you know like people do when they're on heavy meds. His eyes were bright, too bright. He couldn't wait to talk about John Dolan, how he had destroyed his family's home. He kept repeating it over and over again. But he kept forgetting who I was. When his sister brought in some coffee, he asked who she was, too. It's like his brain is stuck in a loop. He has his obsession with Dolan, but he can't keep anything else in his mind. And when I started to leave, he looked at me with this weird grin, like an actor would use to audition to play the Joker and said, 'I took care of it.' I asked what he took care of, but he just asked me my name again. Castle he did it, and for at least a moment he knew he did it."

Castle tries to be of some comfort, sitting beside Kate and taking her hand in his, but a question hangs in the air. "So what are you going to do?"

"Castle I have to report what I heard from Cordwainer, but chances are a judge would take about 30 seconds to decide he's not fit to stand trial - if the case ever makes it to court. Could be, the D.A. will decide that bringing charges would be a waste of time and resources. And he'd probably be right. Cordwainer's already in a prison worse than any the state could condemn him to. From what his sister told me, the doctors think he's going downhill fast. She'll have to put him in a facility soon, probably a locked one."

Castle wraps his arms around Kate. "I guess you could call that Karma, but it doesn't change the fact that John Dolan could have done a lot more building - and good building- for this city, and he never got the chance. It's not fair."

Kate closes her eyes and lets her head sink into his shoulder. "Castle, when you're a cop, you lose any illusions that the world is fair before you finish your rookie year."

He presses a kiss to her temple. "But the city still has you to make it just a little fairer. Listen, you need some distraction. Sha-na-na is singing in Central Park tonight. The band still has three original members and can rock out pretty spectacularly. We can take Jackson. He might even enjoy it. Some of that doo-wop sounds like his kind of language.

Castle can see a smile tugging at the corners of Kate's mouth. "Sure, Babe, sounds like fun. But I want hot dogs from the vendor at the entrance to the park - with hot mustard."

He agrees that it sounds like a plan. And Jackson just might want to get his gums around a New York soft pretzel.

* * *

Kate settles against Castle's chest with a purr of contentment. "Tonight was fun, Babe. Sometimes I forget that New Yorkers can actually get along. But with everyone caught up in the music the way they were at the park, the audience almost seemed like one huge family."

Castle believes that at least his own family group was transported by the hypnotic beat of the oldies rock and roll. Jackson didn't cry the entire time the band was singing. He was waving his hands and feet to the music and even seemed to be cooing along at times. It took a while to get the baby settled after they returned to the loft, but it took some time for Castle's excitement to die down as well.

Now, with Kate against his body, he can feel another kind of excitement building that involves the need for rhythm but doesn't require any singing. Experimentally, he allows the tips of his fingers to trace her curves. As she pushes herself upward, he can see her mouth open hungrily. The tip of her tongue circles her lips before she presses them to his, her tongue probing deeply to capture his. He rolls her beneath him, supporting himself on his arms. Her breasts are jutting upward, brushing against him. She gasps at the contact, even through layers of fabric.

He rolls again, bringing her with him until they are on their sides facing each other. He pushes back her hair and frames her face in his palms, bringing his lips to hers once more. She presses against him; soft but demanding against his growing hardness. He can feel her fingers brushing his skin; first up and down his back under his pajama top, then lower, her hand finding its way beneath his waistband to push his bottoms down.

He counters, slipping her gown from her shoulders and unclasping the nursing bra she still wears. He tastes the sweet flesh of the badges of her motherhood. She gasps, grinding against him. "Castle!"

His explorations lead where Kate is hot, wet and open. She takes matters into her own hand, to guide him within. Her legs wrap around his back urging him deeper inside, even as their mouths collide once more, tongues parrying and retreating. His hips move of their own accord, as the friction feeds a burgeoning blaze. He is on the edge as she contracts around him. They are plunging over the cliff together. He can feel her clinging to him as they fall limp against the sheets. Like a surrounding fog, slumber covers them in its gentle cloak.

* * *

Halloween is coming, and Castle isn't ready. Normally by this time, he would have made his pilgrimage to the pumpkin patch to pick out the best orange treasures to carve into phantasmagorical creations. Between keeping up with his writing and keeping up with Jackson, he's barely had time to think about preparations for the spooky holiday. Jackson seems to have skipped crawling in favor of scooting along on his bottom, and for the past couple of weeks has also been pulling himself up on the coffee table to cruise.

Even with the care Castle took to babyproof the house, there always seems to be something for his son to get into. For some reason, Jackson seemed to think The Ledger would taste good. Castle might have guessed from how much Jackson enjoyed Sha-na-na that the baby would embrace toys that make noise - the louder, the better. Bells, whistles, animal sounds, he likes them all, and especially loves the bang and rattle when he kicks against the bars of his crib. His son's enjoyment of cacophony doesn't make drafting his tale go any faster, but the upside is that Castle always knows where Jackson is - and quietude is a pretty good sign that the boy is actually asleep. It is blessedly quiet now, and Castle is making a list of all the things he'll need before the ghosts and goblins - or more likely characters from the Marvel universe - haunt the halls of the building. Jack-o-lanterns to glow in the loft's tall windows are important, but stocking in the right candy is essential. He has a reputation to maintain in the neighborhood. Casa Castle has always been the best stop ever, for trick-or-treaters. Nothing should change that.


	28. Chapter 28

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 28

Castle glares at the enormous plastic cauldron still filled to the brim with Hershey's finest - the full-sized bars, not what is euphemistically dubbed as "fun size." A few costumed candy cravers had come to the door about as early as their parents could manage to shepherd them around, but it is nearing 6:30, usually the height of the sweets grabbing rush, and no one else is showing up.

Kate lays a hand on his arm. "Sorry, Babe. I know how much you love for this place to be Halloween Central."

Castle insists that there has to be a reason. He checks out the street and sidewalk below the windows of the loft. Both are empty. That almost never happens unless… He pulls his phone out of the pocket of his space cowboy coat and checks his traffic app. Damn! The street is blocked at both ends. For some reason, the vice president has decided to come through town this way, and a security perimeter has been set up. The blockade is supposed to be lifted by 7:30, but by that time, the sun will be down and only the older kids, who should be able to buy their own candy, will be out and about.

He can save a few bars for family consumption and drop the rest of the candy at the 12th Precinct tomorrow. The cops have always welcomed Halloween leftovers - if for nothing else than a shot of energy after dealing with holiday arrests. Still the break in tradition stings.

He and Kate decided over a month ago not to have a party. Kate's never been big on social gatherings anyway, and with Jackson in the house, handling the raucous celebrants would have been a challenge. Kate did agree to a family horror fest, however. Alexis and Cary will be coming for a screening of the worst and the best. The worst was obvious. They settled on _Plan Nine from Outer Space_. The best required more discussion. Kate has always loved Frank Langella's _Dracula_. She has that in common with Mother, who is still raving about the play she did with him in summer stock. Castle can't help having a soft place in his heart for an actor who could also play He-Man's arch enemy, Skeletor, but his all-time choice for sheer scariness is the original _Exorcist_. In high school and college, he'd always found that the video induced an urge in his feminine companions to grab on to him in a very satisfying way. Not that he expects Kate to show fear, but the adrenaline rush could easily result in some interesting late night activity. They decided to have the visiting couple cast the deciding vote.

He has some appropriate snacks planned. Both candy corn and caramel coated popcorn are a must, but he also has the marshmallow ghosts that he and Alexis started making when she was in second grade - updated with a dip in white chocolate. He's also managed to come up with a recipe for pumpkin spice lattes which in his opinion is far superior to anything the Java Hut is offering. He's even made a pumpkin custard for Jackson.

The family festivities won't be beginning until 8:30. At least his daughter and her paramour won't be frustrated by the blocked street. He and Kate will be having monster sandwiches in between, to keep from plunging into complete sugar shock later. Kate has kept her costume a secret, hiding it at work until bringing it home entirely covered by a black garment bag. He tried a couple of times to sneak a peek, but his wife still has cop eyes in the back of her head. She bumped her hip against his and winked when she promised he'd enjoy it, so he has high hopes.

With no ghoulish guests to greet, he turns on the news. A reporter is doing a standup along the route of the vice president's motorcade. Some sort of incident occurred. The Secret Service and N.Y.P.D. have yet to release any details, but she claims that her network has received some information that a body was found. The vice president was apparently never in any danger, and no injuries to anyone else were reported. There will be further bulletins as more information becomes available.

Castle finds the newscast curious. Usually at least some details would be revealed and whatever bystanders can be grabbed would be encouraged to vent their feelings. The lack of the usual flood of words speaks of a deliberate blackout. But on a day when the streets of New York would be filled with both residents going about their business and those getting into Halloween spirit, it is likely that something will seep out from under the official lid. Given the speed of modern electronic social discourse, he expects that it will be before the candles in jack-o-lanterns burn down. He can check a little later. In the meantime, the noise level from Jackson's crib is rising, and he needs to give his son a chance to burn off some energy before the video screenings commence.

* * *

Castle checks his phone after Alexis and Cary, clinging tightly to each other, have said their goodnights. Tidbits are beginning to surface on social media. There's still been no identification of the body, but an occupant of one of the buildings along the vice president's route claims to have seen it and said it was a white woman with dark hair. There are a few pictures, but no other features are discernible except that the corpse is not wearing shoes. Late October has suffered a cooldown prompting most residents of the city to not only keep their feet shod but wear jackets. If the unfortunate woman suffered a sudden heart attack or was felled by some other malady, she would have been fully dressed. If she was barefoot, she was running from something or someone. Even on Halloween that was unlikely to have been a ghost or demon. Some human predator was after her and succeeded in catching her. The question is who and why.

Kate tugs on one of his suspenders. "Babe, I know you've got the mystery mice running around in your head, but we should both get to bed."

Castle can't help grinning as he turns to her. "You said bed, you didn't say sleep."

Kate wraps her fists around both of the straps clipped to his trousers and pulls him toward her. "We'll get to that - eventually. I don't have any meetings in the morning until 11. I can grab more sleep after Jackson has his breakfast, and with any luck, you can grab a nap when Jackson takes his." Kate begins backing up toward the bedroom and Castle allows himself to be dragged along. His pants were tight to start with, and they're getting tighter by the second. He hopes that Kate wants to pull on more than his galluses.

For his part, there have been pieces of her costume as a registered companion that he's been wanting to peel away ever since he had his first view of the brightly colored garments. But the decorative pins that restrain her hair will have to be the first thing to go. After that, he will enjoy removing every silky piece of clothing. The vision is so enticing that he may just have to send a thank you note whoever designed the alluring ensemble- if he ends up with the energy to type.


	29. Chapter 29

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 29

Visions of bare running feet are still vivid in his mind when Castle opens his eyes. Somehow the images had become entwined with Kate's companion costume. Were his dreams trying to tell him that the woman's feet were bare because she was the earthly version of someone's companion? The theory is intriguing. Considering the almost successful news blackout, if she were a paid consort, it would have had to be for someone highly placed.

The vice president would hardly have been the only vaunted leader in town. The city serves as a meeting place for leaders in the arts, business and financial markets. Lower Manhattan is a Mecca for all three. Very few, however, would have the juice to influence reporting of news. That would take both money and power - most likely a lot of both. But no one can buy everyone. The identity of the barefoot brunette won't be a secret much longer.

There are too many questions swirling in his brain to allow Castle to fall back asleep. He can make breakfast and allow Kate to enjoy her foray into dreamland, at least until Jackson demands her services.

There aren't any more useful details about the mysterious shoeless body, but Castle isn't surprised. The cops are giving their standard excuse about needing to notify the next of kin, but Castle doesn't buy it. He can understand withholding the woman's identity, but not everything else. If there is scuttlebutt, he can pick it up when he shows up at the precinct as Mr. Chocolate. He'll have Jackson with him, which will impel most of the female occupants of the bullpen and some of the male ones, especially Ryan, to gather around. Even Gates has a soft spot for the baby - beneath all the iron. Between that and spending some time in the men's room and at the coffee pot, if there's anything to hear, it should reach his ears.

* * *

He and Kate leave the house at the same time, bolstered by eggs scrambled with leftover cold cuts. She's not quite as curious as Castle is - yet - but she'll be alert for any rumors floating around City Hall. Kate takes a cab, but Castle decides to walk, with Jackson in his backpack. The baby is almost too big now for the carrier - and too busy. He likes playing with Castle's hair, not as much as with Kate's, but he still gets his little fingers into it. Lately, Castle has had his stylist cut it short in back to avoid complications.

The morning is chilly, but not bad for Nov. 1. Jackson, bundled into a plush Superboy sleeper, is warm against Castle's back. Even the blasé New Yorkers who pass by on the sidewalk can't help smiling at the ebullient baby. Things are much the same at the precinct where Jackson is greeted even more enthusiastically than Castle's huge shopping bag full of chocolate. There isn't any sign of Captain Gates.

After the cooing crowd has dispersed, Ryan pulls Castle aside to offer his own news that Jenny is pregnant. So far, the only other person at the 12th who knows is Esposito, but Ryan is anxious to enlist Castle's help in preparation for impending fatherhood.

Castle gives him his No. 1 piece of advice, to get as much sleep now, while he can, then slowly works the conversation around to what was invading his dreams the night before. Ryan beckons Castle into the privacy of the interrogation room and makes sure the microphone is turned off. "Listen, Castle, Beckett is going to hear this if she hasn't already, and the press will probably get wind of it any second. The body that was found on the motorcade route yesterday was a confidential informant. Our vice guys had used her, but recently she'd been working for the Southern District; you know they do all the investigations into banks and Wall Street. Anyway, word was that she was sleeping with someone who was laundering money which was being used to finance political campaigns and that some of the money might have been funneled to the vice president."

Castle's eyebrows rise. "Our pious politician who has video of him kneeling and praying for the salvation of our country, all over the web?"

Ryan's lips curl in disgust. "Maybe that wasn't the only reason he uses kneepads. But you know what's going to happen when the story breaks. The city is going to be even more of a media circus than it already is, while DC is going to be doing everything it can to shut press coverage down."

Castle nods. "Yeah, I believe the vice president and the governor are old friends. They might even be feeding at the same trough. Pressure on the N.Y.P.D. to steer the press away from the investigation is going to come down like a ton of reclaimed brownstone."

Ryan puts his hand on Castle's shoulder. "That's why I'm telling you. The department may be hamstrung in investigating any of the governor's buddies, but you're a civilian; so is Beckett. And I know you've got connections. The two of you may be able to dig into things that could get cops barred from promotion, demoted or worse."

Castle shakes his head. "I can't believe that Gates would put up with that kind of interference. She's political, but she's about as honest as they come."

Ryan nods. "I guess no one told you. Her husband is sick. She's on leave. That's why she isn't here. The lieutenant from Robbery is filling in, and you know what a toady he is. He's been trying to earn points with 1PP for years, and he's not about to do anything that might piss off anyone up the line. Castle, if we're going to break this thing open, we need you."

Jackson echoes "ooh." The baby is being exposed to the evil underbelly of life way too soon, and Castle doesn't like it, but he can't let Ryan - or the rest of his friends on the force - down. He's already been looking into the case anyway, just to scratch his own itch. He agrees to help any way he can.

* * *

After his time relatively still astride Castle's back, Jackson is in perpetual motion. Castle knows better than to take his eyes off his son, which doesn't leave him many opportunities for crime-busting. He gets a few minutes to scan through his alerts while he has Jackson in his high chair with bits of dry cereal on his tray. More of the finger food will end up on the floor than in Jackson's tummy, but the loft has a central vacuum system. Cleaning up will be one of Castle's more manageable tasks.

There isn't much more information except that in one image of the barefoot body, he can just make out a logo on a metal door not far from where the body was found. He recognizes it as belonging to an investment firm - one so upscale that he barely qualified to consult with an adviser about availing himself of their services. He hadn't been impressed with their portfolio, which consisted of companies that in the name of progress and profits, were committing some of the most horrendous crimes against the environment. Given what Ryan told him, he doesn't view the involvement of this particular firm as a coincidence. In any case, it's a place to start.


	30. Chapter 30

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 30

"It's about time," Kate declares when Castle informs her of Jenny's pregnancy. "Those two went through so much while they were trying. I'm happy for them, but I hope they'll sleep while they can."

Castle can feel the grin erupting on his face. "Exactly what I told Ryan. But we need to compare notes on what else he told me. Did you hear who the body was and whom she might be linked to?"

Kate shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "Barely, Castle. The cops on the task force were retreating into corners where they wouldn't be heard. Not that whispering about it will change anything. Too many people in the city know about Lisa's death."

"Her name is Lisa?" Castle repeats. "Ryan didn't tell me that. Real name or aka?"

Kate shakes her head, "Real, I think, but considering the kind of work she was doing, there's no telling. It could just have been a name that whatever big shot she was with, liked."

Castle realizes that little as she might think it is, Kate knows more than he does. "Any idea who Mr. Big might be? God, I sound like an episode of _Sex in the City_."

Kate shrugs. "Nothing solid. The thought is that he's a connection to a foreign bank that's serving as a conduit for the purchase of influence. That could hook him to a lot of politicians looking to fill their campaign coffers."

Castle notes that what Kate is describing doesn't sound like a legal way for a public servant to amass a war chest.

Kate clarifies. "If the influence is being solicited from foreign actors or nationals in exchange for campaign contributions, it is very illegal, but to prosecute, the money trail would have to be unraveled. From what I understand, Lisa was working on helping the Southern District figure out whom to subpoena."

Castle is beginning to understand the scenario that would would have led to Lisa's demise. "From the way she ended up, it seems like she was close to succeeding. I wonder if she got the chance to pass on any of her information. The way she was dressed, it looked like she might have been caught out in the middle of bedroom espionage."

Kate shrugs again. "I don't know Castle. That could be why the lid is on so tight. If she did manage to pass something on, the feds don't want it leaking out. And if she didn't, the murderer wants to sabotage any further investigation. I believe you're right. We find whose secrets Lisa was after, we find the murderer. But if the Southern District already had that information, I think a judge would be issuing a warrant. Sometimes confidential sources play it pretty close to the vest. That's how they stay employed."

Castle is sure there must be another way of going after the killer. If politicians are getting campaign money illegally, that fact would eventually pop up in the research of the other side. He's heard that the vice president is considering a run for the presidency when the current president's term is up. That would be a reason he'd need large sums of money. Now Castle just needs someone close enough to the VP's potential opponent to have the skinny on whatever financial hijinks might be taking place. He knows just the guy. And his upcoming high stakes poker game will be just the lure he needs to procure the man's services.

* * *

Jackson may just be the next Las Vegas wonder or at least he might be in about 21 years. From his perch in his high chair, he seems to take in every card being dealt while his ears note the clink of every chip. Castle wouldn't want him anywhere near a serious game, but the dry run he is doing with Kate, Alexis, Cary, and mother holds enough fascination. Skill with cards appears to run in the family. Mother can read Castle like a book and does so loudly and at length. Alexis is no slouch either. She has a real talent for detecting tells. Unfortunately, she has several of his, down cold. Kate, on the other hand, is more inscrutable to the other members of his family. There are things Castle can see, the shifting colors in her hazel eyes and the fervor with which she pushes her hair behind her ear, but somehow the redheads have yet to pick up on them. It's just as well, there are other things he'd rather not have them pick up on. Husbands and wives need a few secrets from the rest of the world.

Kate takes the next hand and Castle the one after it. Alexis is obviously exaggerating the stretch that accompanies her yawn, providing a transparent excuse to go do more exciting things with her boyfriend. Mother retires a few minutes later.

Kate slides the tip of her shoe beneath Castle's pants leg. "Jackson should be getting sleepy anytime now. Once we put him to bed, maybe we could put away the chips to play for more interesting stakes. How about a game of strip?"

Eager to take her up on her offer, Castle studies Jackson's eyelids for any sign of drooping. Unfortunately, the baby seems wider awake than ever. For now, he and Kate will have to play holdem of a more platonic kind.

Castle's phone dings with a text from Carl Ward, the ultimate insider of the vice president's loyal opposition. He's accepting Castle's invitation to a game for much more than plastic markers. When Castle looks up, Jackson has finally succumbed to slumber's call. The evening's promise is definitely on the upswing.

* * *

Castle doesn't know whether to be peeved or grateful that both he and Kate were wearing multiple clothing layers in response to the November weather. Almost all of both sets of garments now lie piled on chairs beside either him or Kate. Not that he cares how much he won. He doubts that Kate does either. The joy is in the losing since the more either one of them loses, the more they expect to win. They are approaching the finish line fast. He has just his shirt, and she is down to bra and panties. The turn of the "river" card gives him 3 queens. That should just about do the trick. But Kate has 3 kings. That's even better. One game is over, but another is just beginning.

Kate lets him keep his shirt until they reach the bedroom, then claims it, undoing each button at tortuously slow speed while her tongue traces the skin she reveals. Straddling him, she unclasps her own bra, leaving her silken bikini in place. As Castle cups her, he can feel the heat and the moisture through the thin fabric. He moves from beneath her and pushes the barrier aside, allowing access for his mouth.

Kate's whole body bucks. She shoves the twin triangles down her legs and kicks them to the foot of the bed. Plunging her fingers into the more abbreviated version of his hair, she pulls him tight against her blazing need. She must be almost subconsciously wary of waking Jackson, because he can feel her suppress a scream as she erupts. She is still pressing against him, moist and simmering, as if to urge him in. He needs no invitation. He thrusts in time to the rise and fall of her hips, while the tips of her breasts beg his palms for attention.

He bites his lip. They can't wake the baby now, not now. Every part of his being joins in the silent explosion, and they collapse breathless together.

A/N Guest, a registered companion is a type of character on _Firefly_ , akin to a geisha or a courtesan. She is a legal and highly respected practitioner of the art of pleasing both men and women. Companions are well educated, and their health is checked every year. They also tend to be quite beautiful. Nathan's character was in love with one and vice versa. It was unconsummated, at least until the graphic novels.


	31. Chapter 31

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 31

Carl Ward emanates power. As far as Castle can tell, there's no physical reason why he should. The man is at most, five seven with thick-soled shoes. He's balding but has chosen to comb over a few strands rather than assume the shaved head look that is becoming ever more popular. His skin is doughy and his fingers short and chubby. Nevertheless, it is impossible not to feel Ward's presence in a room.

Ward exerts his psychic force at poker, as well. Castle had rented a conference room at the Four Seasons for the game and Ward is at the head of the massive table. Almost equally massive is the pile of winnings in front of him. Castle is not upset by that. Despite the enjoyment he generally takes in dominating the game, he came prepared to lose - at cards anyway. He feels well on his way to winning in his quest for information. He brought up the mysterious dead body as casually as he could. That was enough to start a discussion about the chances of the vice president, or his presumptive opponent, Gary Newcomb, securing the nomination.

Ward states straight out that whether Newcomb is nominated or not, Vice President Parcival doesn't have a chance. When pressed, he merely adds that Parcival is doomed to lose the backing of a certain god-fearing segment of the electorate. Castle is hoping to squeeze out more details after a few more scotches have passed through Ward's lips, but he can already read between the lines. In more ways than one, Parcival was caught with his pants down.

When Castle and Ward are the only ones remaining players, Castle probes further about what Ward knows about Parcival's finances. Ward immediately comes up with the fact that Lower Battery Bank is merely a front for the Bank of Cypress, with money flowing into its pipeline from all over the world. Raking in the final pot, he tells Castle that if he had to make a guess, the laundered lucre finding its way to the Parcival campaign is coming from an overseas pharmaceutical manufacturer. Ward notes that while Parcival was in the House of Representatives and later the Senate, he worked hard to minimize the requirements for generic versions of drugs to enter the marketplace. His assumed patron is the largest manufacturer of generic drugs in the world. With the U.S. consuming 75 percent of the planet's prescription medications, easing American approvals means big money and has apparently earned Percival big rewards.

Castle still needs to uncover the identity of operative and possible hitman for a drug company, whom Lisa was bedding, and even more vital, who would order the hit. He has no doubt that the Southern District is on the money trail to try to obtain answers, but there might be another route. What Parcival could have done that would incur the severe wrath of the hardliners in the religious community is an interesting question. Based on the fall of previous champions of public piousness Castle's first guess would be doing the nasty outside of the marriage bed. But it couldn't just be straight sex. Parcival could always make the standard speech begging the forgiveness of his family and his savior and get away with it. But some perceived form of perversion might be enough to derail his campaign and possibly the rest of his career. Castle has a few ideas who would know about that too. It just might be time for a trip to Dungeon Alley.

* * *

The grooves are forming in Kate's forehead again. "Dungeon Alley? Castle I thought you were fed up with that place after the monkey bars murder. Her eyes shift from brown to green as she runs her fingertip down the front of his shirt. "But if you need a little discipline, I can always arrange it."

Castle is more than willing to discuss that later, but he needs a source of information on the sexual quirks of powerful men. He has a feeling Lady Irina would be a good one, from her experience in both the boardroom and the bedroom. He has sent a couple of his kinkier acquaintances her way, and he suspects that as long as she is not revealing information on her own clients, she might very well be forthcoming - especially if he shells out for a session or two. Kate agrees but promises him that she is going to check every inch of his body for unexplained marks - and Mistress Red lipstick. He's looking forward to it.

* * *

Even without the leather bustier and the six-inch spike heeled boots, Irina would be compelling. Castle has no doubt that men fall at her feet and bark, roll over and desperately beg for her approval. His transaction with her, however, will be strictly monetary. She admits that like most professions, hers has a grapevine, although names are rarely mentioned. Politicians are among the most frequent clients of the dominatrix sisterhood, with bible-thumpers leading the pack. She heard a story about a particularly highly placed federal officeholder seeking punishment for his sins. There weren't many details, but she learned enough to know that the man's misdeeds, and in his case even Irina considered them serious transgressions, involved minor boys. From what Irina could gather, most of the action took place in DC, but there were incidents in New York, L.A., and Peoria.

Peoria rings an instant bell for Castle. Parcival is from Kickapoo, just west of that Illinois city. Castle can't help but think that it makes sense that the name of Parcival's hometown would imply that his shoes are covered in the brown stuff. If what he suspects is true, Lisa was murdered so Parcival could dodge a shit storm, but if Castle has anything to say about it, he won't dodge it forever.

Despite the fun the baby has with Buttons Dutton, Castle is both pleased and a little ashamed that Jackson is so obviously glad to see him. He has been spending too much time away from his son, chasing a mystery. Well, he's not about to go to Kickapoo or Peoria. He wouldn't get very far in an investigation anyway. Parcival is a favorite son in that part of the country. It is unlikely that anyone would say anything against him and any official reports involving a minor would be sealed. But he can let his fingers do the walking, even if he has to clean the slime off his keyboard.

Normally he would consider it execrable that pedophiles have online networks, but for this case there is an upside. If he can build himself a convincing enough persona, he may be able to break into the perverted brotherhood. If Percival is victimizing underage boys, there will be a sign. There may even be an element of pride that one of their own has risen high enough to have a shot at the highest position in the land. Hell, they might even campaign and vote for the sonofabitch. There will be a web of posts and retweets. He'll just have to find the strand that will lead him to the center. The trail may be tedious and even torturous, but in the end, it will guide him to the venomous predator. He just hopes there will be evidence substantial enough to smack the arachnid flat.


	32. Chapter 32

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 32

Between rotating IP addresses and a new computer, Castle has managed a reasonable disguise of his identity. It wouldn't fool law enforcement for long, but it should serve to give him an in as Pete the Pervert. He's worked his way well into a bottle of antacids while working out the predilections of his online avatar. His gut wrenches every time he thinks of someone like the deviant he's creating ever getting anywhere near Jackson.

Pete has a preference for boys whose secondary sexual characteristics are just developing. He likes the beginning traces of facial hair and is totally turned on by the squeak of a changing voice. He tells a sad tale of wanting to use video arcades in malls as hunting grounds, but with the malls disappearing, being reduced to thinking about pizza parlors that specialize in children's parties and still feature a wide array of games. That would add the additional complication of alert parents and staff members.

Pete also posts his wish of becoming the assistant coach for a boys basketball team in a depressed neighborhood. For the most part, the boys would come from single-parent families, with the breadwinner, usually the mother, often working two jobs just to get by. On many afternoons the boys would be left completely in his charge. He wishes he was grooming one he'd found promising as a sexual partner, now.

The tummy pills are no longer doing the trick and Castle runs for the bathroom. Insinuating himself into the sick society he's chosen as the place to gather his clues is going to be more painful than he imagined, but he's hoping that his efforts will not only serve to bring down Parcival but others of his ilk. Who knows how many of them are lurking in sports groups, youth organizations, schools, and among the clergy?

* * *

Castle has to take a break while both his stomach and his mind settle. Jackson is happily engaged in his new activity ball gym. Castle took a safety gauge to every single one of the 30 balls to make sure there was no chance Jackson could swallow one, but now that he's satisfied his son will be safe, enjoys watching him master the various activities. An added bonus is that even though Castle can see everything the baby is doing, the walls of the enclosure are too high for Jackson to breach - at least this week.

While Jackson is occupied, Castle starts planning Thanksgiving. Usually, he starts the day after Halloween - if not before - but he's had to give a little on all the holidays since Jackson was born. That's been OK. Family has always been the most crucial part, and this Thanksgiving will be no different. According to Kate, her father will be returning from the seminars he's been teaching in London in time to attend the family celebration. Mother's play will be dark on Thanksgiving so she can be present as well. As a civilian, Kate won't be obliged to put in a shift, Alexis will be on a break from school, and Black Pawn will be closed. Jackson may be able to manage his first bites of turkey and will love the mashed potatoes, both to eat and to indulge his artistry on his high chair tray.

Castle puts in an order to get a fresh turkey shipped overnight from Amish country in Ohio to New York. He and Jackson can do the produce shopping together. Alexis will probably take charge of dessert, but if she doesn't, he and Kate can collaborate on pies. She likes taking out her aggressions by banging cookies into crumbs for sweet crusts, and he has developed the perfect mixtures for fillings.

Entertainment will be another consideration. No one in the group is a fan of the football games that fascinate a lot of American families following the ritual feast. Castle is thinking tabletop amusements, but none with any pieces small enough that Jackson might grab them and shove them in his mouth. That lets out almost anything with tokens or dice. Cards of one sort or another would be fine. The most Jackson would do would be to mouth the corners. Or they could move away from the table to charades, Pictionary, or Balderdash. Somehow, he can't picture Jim Beckett letting loose enough to play charades and Mother would have an unfair advantage. The word games will work. He'll just have to remember to set up a whiteboard they can scribble on.

Decorations are a conundrum. Anything he can put up high will be fine, but scented candles or arrangements of autumn leaves on tables would be a terrible idea around his endlessly curious son. He does have some twinkle lights in fall colors put away somewhere. If he can find them, they should add to the festive atmosphere.

He's procrastinated long enough. He needs to post to the "They're Best While They're Fresh," website. At least now his stomach is empty.

* * *

Kate has some exciting news. Her task force has uncovered two cold cases in which the victims were found in a very similar condition to the way Lisa was. Not only were they shoeless, but they also appear to have been killed with the same type of blade - an Ari B'Lilah. The knife was developed for all kinds of military and law enforcement purposes in Israel and has no real civilian equivalent. That makes perfect sense to Castle. The pharmaceutical company that has been funneling money to Parcival started in Israel before moving its headquarters to California. An assassin who did time in Israeli forces of one sort or another would be a logical suspect. Almost everyone who comes of age in that country is required to serve. There would have to be at least a few bad apples.

Castle likes the path of Kate's investigation a lot better than his own. The killer is someone with Israeli roots who has been in the U.S. for some time and is allied in some way with the pharmaceutical company in question. Tracing that back to Parcival is a lot more palatable than exploring the vice president's other activities.

Still, whether Parcival is ultimately responsible in some way for Lisa's death or not, if Ward was right about him that fact must be uncovered and exposed - but not tonight.

Kate's decided to prepare her Nonna's meat sauce to top linguine. That will be an event to be savored. He can help out with the salad and some crusty Italian bread that Jackson can teethe on. He can also get the fresh fruit washed and ready for dessert.

While Castle normally does most of the culinary chores - and did even before his wife returned to work - Kate seems to genuinely relish her time in the kitchen. Even before they were together, she told Castle about the Sunday brunches Johanna used to make for her family. Perhaps between her grandmother and her mother, some of the joy of cooking rubbed off. Or maybe she's just trying to compensate for the time she has to spend away from him and Jackson. It could be both. Whatever Kate's reasons, she takes on a glow that Castle basks in while she's standing over a saucepan. And happily, sometimes her propensity to stir things up lasts well into other heat-related activities they can pursue together.

A/N Guests, Castle is not viewing kiddie porn. I never even mentioned kiddie porn in this story except as part of a Drake Bentley tale where they got the bad guy. Castle is not relating any real events. His avatar is expressing fantasies. That is not illegal, just disgusting. When the cops who hang out in chat rooms collar someone, it is in relation to an actual crime, such as showing up to meet with a minor. Essentially, they conduct a sting. If Castle catches wind of a real plan for any crime or sees a confession for one that has already been committed, he will, of course, pass the info on to the cops, probably through Kate or Ryan. I think I've also made it clear that Castle made himself hard to trace unless law enforcement got very serious about it. Even so, they would need a warrant to get info from the provider of the secondary internet link he's set up. They would have very little basis to obtain one. They'd have a lot of bigger fishes to go after. And when you get right down to it, Castle has committed no crime, and that would be pretty damn easy to prove. He hasn't done anything or conspired to do anything, and his whereabouts would be entirely verifiable.


	33. Chapter 33

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 33

Three hours past breakfast Pete the Pervert signs onto his forum and scans the entries. Most of them are the same pond scum he's seen before, but one is a description of the seduction of an underage boy in a place called Pookakic. There have been many similar posts, but this one catches his eye because through his love of word puzzles he immediately recognizes Pookakic as an anagram of Kickapoo, Parcival's home turf.

While the location is disguised, if clumsily, as Castle researches the details, they track. There is a youth basketball league as described. The court used is at a recreation center that seems to match an image of a real one. The timing of the sickening event corresponds to when Parcival was on a home visit. Most nauseating is that the post gloats that it is not the first time that Stallion has made a move under the same circumstances. On a hunch, Castle Googles Parcival and Stallion. Sure enough, there was a stallion named Parcival. The horse in question was a champion in dressage - expert maneuvering. It's all falling into place.

Kate doesn't answer her phone until the fourth ring. She's been busy researching killings carried out with an Ari B'Lilah, not just in New York but across the country. It's been difficult because stabbings don't always list the weapon employed and she, with some help from Lanie, has been contacting individual medical examiners, starting with those at places Parcival has been known to vacation. So far, she hasn't had any luck. Castle suggests that she might use the Los Angeles suburb in California where the pharmaceutical company is headquartered as the center of her search. If the knife wielder is in their employ, it is possible that he pursued assignments the area.

He asks if she can take a break from tracking her assassin for a while to check out molestations in and around Kickapoo, especially anything relating to a boys' basketball team. Castle can hear the distaste in her voice as she promises that she will. At least she hasn't had lunch yet either. Whether he can choke down a meal or not, he has to feed Jackson. The weather has warmed up enough to allow his son to get in some time at the park, too.

Jackson has sharp eyes for whatever birds or furry creatures enter his field of vision. Castle suspects the boy notices just about everything. Whether that is a legacy from a detective mother or a novelist father, Castle doesn't know. It's entirely possible that it's both. In any case, Castle can use some fresh air - or at least what passes for it in New York City - himself. He is also craving a very long shower, but that will have to wait for what is becoming Jackson's increasingly shorter nap time.

* * *

Castle recognizes many of the faces of the mothers and fathers pushing strollers. He doesn't recall seeing the man sitting on a bench by the playground before. The lurker isn't doing anything threatening; he's probably harmless, but right now any unexplained presence around children makes Castle's skin crawl. He's always been protective - Mother would say overprotective - of Alexis, and alert to any potential danger to Jackson. But this mind-numbing unease is different, and he hates it. He feels like just by making electronic contact with the evil that menaces the young, he's been contaminated and should be scrubbed down by the men in the hermetically sealed suits. He's hoping the feeling will fade once he can step back from his stomach-roiling research.

The lyrics to "Urgent," emanate from his pocket. That's Kate with something that can't wait. She doesn't even bother saying hello. She just tells him that the perpetrator of a stabbing with an Ari B'Lilah has been arrested in Costa Mesa, California. A victim he left for dead, recovered enough to tell the police who stabbed her. The suspect, Benyamin Nussbaum, demanded a lawyer, who subsequently asked to make a deal. From what Kate has gathered, Nussbaum wants to flip on his employer. The D.A. is supposed to be working on it.

It's the best news Castle has heard in a while. If Nussbaum's employer turns out to be the pharmaceutical company, the ties to Parcival will be reasonably easy to uncover by following Parcival's record and the money trail. Once he gives Kate everything he's found, to turn over to the appropriate authorities, he can climb out of the slime pit for good. For good measure, he's going to get rid of the hot spot that's giving him extra IP addresses and get the hard drive of his auxiliary computer wiped. He wants no trace of contagion remaining in Castle territory.

* * *

It takes a few days, but Nussbaum's revelations are splashed all over the media. They were picked up first by the Orange County Register, never a booster of Newcomb but known for its independence, then spread through the web and across the country. Vice President Parcival attempted to take off for a fact-finding mission in the Middle East but was turned back by the Israeli government, which was apparently trying to distance itself from the political fallout of the investigation as much as possible. It will take time, but an indictment is pending, and under the watchful eyes of the Secret Service, Parcival will be unable to disappear. The "Stallion" will rear no more. Three executives at the pharmaceutical company have been arrested and charged with conspiracy to commit multiple homicides.

* * *

The savory aroma of turkey is drifting through the loft. Castle put the huge bird in the oven at 6 a.m., to make sure that it would be both cooked and rested in time for an afternoon feast. The family all arrives. Cary is with Alexis. They will be joining his parents for an evening meal, so they will be avoiding completely stuffing themselves, but should be able to enjoy the celebration nonetheless.

Kate has been in her glory, gleefully crushing Oreos to make a crust for a triple chocolate ice cream pie. Alexis donated the classic pumpkin variety of the pastry treat and Castle proudly crafted his offering with pecans, some of which also show up in the salad. Jim Beckett brings a sweet and creamy corn casserole, and Mother puts together a tray of raw vegetables, a task during which she could do little damage to Castle's gustatory sensibilities.

After Jim Beckett leads the gathering in an ecumenical version of grace, Jackson screws up his face at the tartness of cranberry sauce but proudly covers everything in range of his fingers with mashed potato studded with bits of turkey.

Kate's father also shows a flair for Pictionary, with artistry his daughter lacks. Castle and Cary are almost evenly matched in speed, but Castle's skill with words eventually gives his team the advantage. Jackson is fascinated with the proceedings. Castle wonders whether it is the drawing, the words or just the excitement that is capturing the baby's attention. Kate speculates that it may be all three.

The highlight of the celebration occurs when Jackson becomes the center of attention, having chosen to walk for the first time, in front of as large and appreciative an audience as possible. A forest of cell phones blooms as pictures and videos are captured en masse and shared with the entire assembly. Castle is sure of one thing. Whatever else Jackson may have inherited, his flair for drama comes straight from the Rodgers side of the family. For at least the next 18 years or so, his son will aim solidly for center stage.

A/N Guest, I guess you missed what I said the first time. Castle never looked at kiddie porn. Did you think he would? It was a forum, not a porn site. He never solicited a child and never admitted to a crime. His name was not on it, and he wasn't associated with the IP address or the machine ID. Why would the cops bother going after him and what judge would allow them to uncover his identity without any evidence of a crime? I would not know if the perverts post those pictures or not. Just to research it could be a crime. But my understanding is that the controls are much tighter on kiddie porn sites just because they are illegal. Discussions are not. So for the purposes of this story, we will assume this is just a forum. I'm sure lots of us have been on forums of one type or another. I have, and I can't recall anyone posting a picture.


	34. Chapter 34

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 34

Celebrating Christmas with a toddler around is going to be an experience Castle hasn't had in about 16 years and Kate has never had at all. A lot of things about the observance will have to change. There can't be anything breakable, or that can be swallowed, on the tree - at least not on the lower branches. The village, the train, and the piles of presents will have to be on much higher ground. Ribbons and anything that could possibly find its way around Jackson's neck are a no-no. Cookies and other holiday yummies will need to be secured up high as well.

The cold weather is also limiting trips to the park. It's not that Castle can't bundle himself and Jackson up, but there is ice, slush, and mud, making it difficult to maneuver a stroller and not very navigable for a beginning walker. The loft has had to become even more of a playground. In addition to the baby monkey bars, the ball activities, and an upsizing of Jackson's swing, the living room has become a roadway for Jackson's push and ride-along car and a site for manipulating oversized blocks.

Castle has a great time watching Jackson conquer every new activity. He's also been down on the floor with his son - a lot. Getting up isn't as easy as it was when Alexis was that age, but he's managing. After Christmas, the loft stands to become even more of a toddler paradise.

In the two days that remain before Santa is scheduled to make an appearance, there is a lot to do. Fortunately, Kate has the time off from work, so it is easier to have a pair of eyes on Jackson. Alexis is scheduled to come help with the tree, but she has a holiday of her own to prepare. Two actually. Her celebration with Cary will be double, with Hanukkah overlapping Christmas. They will have a small tree, with some of Alexis' favorite ornaments, and also a menorah that Cary has lit every night of the Festival of Lights since he was a little boy. Alexis has tried to learn how to make the Jewish-style pancakes known as latkes, but she and Cary settled on sufganiyot, Hanukkah doughnuts, as their seasonal food of choice.

Castle suspects that he might be invited to participate in the gambling game that is played with a traditional top, the dreidel. Alexis may be expecting to beat him, but Castle had enough experience with Jewish classmates at boarding school to gain some skill with that particular amusement. On the other hand, with Cary's prodigious mathematics talent, Castle could find himself on the losing end. He'll just have to pay attention for next year.

Next year? The idea that Alexis' relationship with her boyfriend is that solid is frightening and comforting in equal measure. Castle loves the fact that his daughter is happy, but he'd always pictured her as not getting truly serious about anyone until she graduated college. Of course, he'd been totally serious about Kyra while he was in college - but look how that had turned out. As deeply in love as he is with Kate, there are still a few scars on his soul from that early heartbreak. He hates to think of Alexis going through anything like that, but there's nothing he can do except wait to see what develops.

Along with the traditional Christmas fluff, the news broadcasts are full of coverage of the new vice president that was appointed after Parcival was forced to resign. She came as a surprise to most of the talking heads. Unlike Richard Nixon, who chose to fill the office vacated by Spiro Agnew with a longstanding party leader from the House of Representatives, the president chose his leading rival for the nomination, a firebrand named Tammy Mason.

Tammy comes from a distinguished military family and served two tours in Iraq before being sidelined by an injury. Being in a wheelchair has scarcely slowed her down. She was a tireless campaigner and during her short tenure so far, appears equally energetic as vice president. She's been touring veteran's facilities to develop a proposal for legislation to improve services and response time. She's also made a point of visiting the food banks and pointing out the shame of the food insecurity many in America face, in a country rich enough that it should be more than capable of adequately feeding everyone. Castle has already decided that he would happily vote for her for president in the next election, should she choose to run.

Not everyone, however, is an admirer. Thinly veiled bigotry has surfaced at Tammy's mixed racial heritage. She is also not a darling in the corporate suites who see her as endangering their tax breaks in favor of allocating more money to the social safety net. Then there is always the idiot crowd who thinks a woman shouldn't be in charge of anything. Given his appreciation for powerful, capable women, Castle can just imagine how fast things would fall apart if those morons had their way.

While he's thinking of remarkable women, he checks his watch. Kate went shopping. Unless she's with Lanie and being urged toward the perfect selection, Kate's buying trips are usually very rapid operations. She knows exactly what she wants, and purchases it, end of story. But she's been gone for hours. The stores are crowded this time of year, but even so, he's beginning to wonder if something happened.

As if she could hear his thoughts, her ringtone, the nonurgent one, emanates from his pocket. Kate explains that somehow the streets in midtown have become flooded. She thinks a water main may have burst or something. She called the nearest precinct, but so far there's no official explanation. The liquid has begun to form a thin layer of ice, causing multiple accidents and turning traffic into a nightmare. She's trying to reach the subway, but it's slow going. She says she'll be home as soon as she can, and she doesn't want him to worry.

Castle isn't worried about Kate - much. She can easily handle challenges like slippery conditions and overloaded public transportation. He is curious about what caused the flooding. Usually, it takes quite a freeze to cause heavy pipes to burst, and the city hasn't been experiencing one. On the other hand, if someone wanted to create chaos deliberately, the flooding would be a pretty effective way to do it.

The question is who would profit by causing that kind of disruption. Terrorists would most likely do something a lot more violent and deadly. Could the flooding have been a distraction while a crime was being committed? What crime and by whom? Storylines are beginning to flow freely from his brain. A bank robbery seems unreasonable. Even in the midst of the water flow, it would attract too much attention. If there were a crime, it would have to be something small and subtle, yet with a big enough payoff to justify the risk of getting caught pissing off that many New Yorkers. Jewels, stocks and bonds, the possibilities seem endless. Or perhaps the rushing waters were aimed at one particular target and the rest of the mess was just collateral damage. He sets an alert on his phone for further information. If nothing else, he may get a good story out of Midtown's mass inconvenience.


	35. Chapter 35

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 35

Castle studies every article he can find on the Midtown Flood, especially regarding any crimes that might have taken place. He notes that a bag was snatched when an unfortunate shopper slipped on the ice. Karma must have been at work. Not only did the thief take a header, allowing fellow pedestrians to return the purse to its owner, but the perpetrator had to be transported to the hospital to have his arm stitched up before he was carted off to jail. A few roasted chestnuts disappeared in the confusion as well, but there was nothing that would have justified blowing up a pipe.

Perhaps the water flow was just an accident - or the result of lousy maintenance - but Castle is not giving up that easily. He's often been aware of incidents that were known to the cops but kept out of the media. Given the right motivation, Esposito can be the biggest gossip he knows. His lips might just be loosened by a large pizza with double jalapeño peppers. Castle decides that he might just as well provide the whole bullpen with a pre-holiday treat, an idea with which Kate readily agrees.

* * *

Esposito is attempting to pretend that sweat isn't breaking out on his brow while he consumes his fiery repast. "Castle, I don't know how you figured it out, but there wasn't just a robbery; there was a homicide while Midtown was iced over. The details haven't been released for a couple of reasons. There's the usual thing that we haven't been able to notify the next of kin yet, but Homeland Security also put a lid on it. The lab found explosive residue where that pipe gave way. DHS immediately thought terrorists, except there hasn't been a sign of anything like that and if some group of wackos claimed responsibility, the press would have picked it up.

"The victim, Celia Leder, owned a store that sells those purses that go for hundreds of bucks but look just like the ones the girls buy on Canal Street for $14.95. The place is called Ultimate Safari. A bunch of what the clerk called messenger bags went missing, supposedly thousands of dollars' worth."

To Castle, a load of high-end leather goods doesn't seem like enough of a reason to kill someone over or to turn Midtown into a slip and slide. There has to be more to the story. He remembers a passport smuggling operation involved in ritual murders he helped Kate solve, with some unwelcome assistance from Meredith. There were purses, but otherwise this case doesn't seem anything like that one. He doesn't have any more time to devote to digging - at least not until after Christmas. He waves goodbye to the saucy-faced cops and heads back to the loft, just in time to greet Alexis.

* * *

While Kate keeps an eagle eye on Jackson, Castle and his daughter ascend ladders to begin hanging garlands on the tree. Rather than any that might shed tinsel to be picked up and stuffed in the mouth of a curious toddler, the ones Castle and Kate have chosen are of rich purple - Kate's favorite color - velvet decorated in gold thread. They match large purple bows. The tree will also be done up in furry bears and plush reindeer, all outfitted in purple.

The lower branches will have an array of soft stuffed ornaments, crafted to look like characters from Star Wars, Star Trek and the Pixar Car movies. Castle bought the animated auto set in response to Jackson's newfound affection for his push and ride toy and his cuddly Lightning McQueen.

By the time the decorators have finished their labors, they are more than ready for Christmas cookies and hot chocolate with double marshmallows. Jackson, eagerly mouthing an arrowroot biscuit joins the group. Between sweet sips, Castle recounts the "Mystery of the Bagged Bags," drawing a groan from Alexis and a playful punch in the arm from Kate. When Alexis departs to indulge in some nesting of her own, Jackson is finally ready for a nap.

* * *

As far as Castle is concerned, the precious time with his wife while Jackson sails with Winken, Blinken, and Nod is not a gift to be squandered. He smooths the satin cover of the duvet, plumps the bed pillows and beckons Kate to join him. At first, they lie hand in hand in companionable silence, but Castle is feeling more than companionable. Christmastime always gets his juices flowing in more ways than one. Right now they are flowing in a decidedly downward direction.

He can see by the shift in the shade of Kate's eyes that she is not without interest in amorous activities. He feathers a kiss on the tip of her nose. Grasping the back of his neck, she thrusts her tongue between his lips, sparking a surge of flame through his body. Their lips press hard as they grab each other.

Kate reaches down to free Castle from the constriction of his pants, even as he grapples with her top to reach the treasure beneath. The trouble with the season is that they are wearing way too many clothes, but they are shedding them as fast as they can while still straining to maintain contact.

Kate's skin is blazing beneath Castle's questing hands and hungry mouth. His lips mark a trail toward her simmering center until finally encircling the needy bud. The duvet slips as she thrashes beneath his attentions, bringing them perilously close to the edge of the bed. Rather than fall off, his feet, then his knees, seek the floor. Kate's calves are on his shoulders, her feet wrapped behind his head. She is entirely open to him, moaning for completion. She clamps her lips tight as it comes, smothering the outcry rising from deep in her chest. Signalling him to stand, her legs find purchase around his waist as she urges him in.

He needs no urging. She is still hot and slick. She tightens around him as he thrusts, increasing the friction. He is close, so close, yet holding back until he feels the ripples of a new tide surrounding him. His legs are weak as they find release together, and he just manages to sink down beside her on the bed.

Castle's knees are sore, but he doesn't care. Any bruising from the pressure of the floor against them was worth the ecstatic explosion it brought. Being with Kate grows more enthralling by the day, and sometimes he can't believe how lucky he is to have her as his wife. Stroking his hand softly over her abdomen, he can still feel the silvery streaks that mark Jackson's sojourn inside her. She's been trying to banish them with potions that are hawked for the purpose, but to him the marks are beautiful. What could be more precious than having a woman carry his child and be the wife he loves more with every passing moment. If there were a Santa, his elves could never match the gift that is Kate Beckett. He just hopes she can understand just how dear to him she is. She reaches for his hand, and their fingers entwine in silent communion. Slowly his eyes focus on his leonine totem on the wall. He imagines the big cat seeking his lioness, but like Kate, she is a huntress, busy stalking her prey.

Hunting! Expensive leather merchandise! In his mind, a theory to explain the Midtown Mystery is beginning to coalesce.


	36. Chapter 36

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 36

As Castle is staring at his computer screen, he feels Kate put her hand on his shoulder. "I thought you weren't going to look at anything else on the Celia Leder homicide until after Christmas."

Feeling a bit sheepish, Castle swivels to face her. "I wasn't, but Linus gave me an idea."

Kate's eyes narrow skeptically. "Your lion poster."

Castle nods. "Uh huh. I started thinking about hunting, and I was musing about the name of Celia's store, Ultimate Safari. Some exotic leathers are illegal to import because they come from endangered species. I was wondering if the stolen messenger bags were contraband that Celia either obtained on purpose or were delivered to her by mistake. Either way, they'd be worth a fortune, but if she did receive them by mistake, and she refused to give them up, the smugglers might have been reduced to desperate measures."

Kate rolls her eyes. "Blowing up a water main is a pretty desperate measure. So what are you searching for?"

Castle shrugs. "I'm not really sure. I've been looking for information on the kind of animals skins targeted by poachers and seeing where it would lead me." He glances at the time display in the corner of the screen. "But I guess I got carried away. It's way past time for breakfast - especially since it's Christmas Eve. I was going to make my special pancakes."

Kate responds that Jackson has already had his cereal, but if Castle still wants to make pancakes, she's more than willing to eat them.

* * *

Castle accents the chocolate chip happy faces on his pancakes with hair and brows in red and green Christmas frosting. Celia Leder's murder is still in the back of his mind but his excitement for the holiday is building. His presents are all wrapped. Most of them are piled on the high table set up next to the tree and at least for the moment out of Jackson's reach. He has a few still stowed away for stocking stuffing, and the earrings he had made for Kate are in the safe. He wanted ruby hearts to show his love for her encircled by amethysts to support her passion for purple. They are finely crafted in platinum to highlight the stones.

He sent for a custom stocking for Jackson, going by the rule of the smaller the toddler, the bigger the toy. Jackson's furry boot is bright red, which seems to be his favorite color, about 2 feet long and a foot and a half wide. He appeared delighted when Castle lifted him up so he could hang it on the stoutest of the hooks above the fireplace. Castle imagines that his son will be even more excited when it is filled with playthings and mouthable starter books.

Castle has already begun reading to the boy, for as long as a toddler attention span could handle. Between the pictures and doing character voices, he believes he's sparked some literary interest. As independent as Jackson is becoming, Castle expects him to be grabbing the books for himself, even if he can't read them. Who knows? He might be raising a baby Einstein. Alexis was reading at three, and in a rare moment of refraining from sticking pins in his ego, Mother told him that he had been closer to two when he'd begun spontaneously recognizing words – mostly from TV commercials. She'd gone on to confess that even before his long stints in the public library, he'd always been a fast reader and had memorized her scripts with a lot less effort than she did. Jackson might follow in his footsteps.

On the other hand, his son is a lot like Kate: stubborn, fleet-footed, and adorable. Kate's speed with the written word isn't even close to his own, but her dogged determination gets her through. If Jackson has inherited that, it wouldn't be bad either.

Kate's stocking is also new. It had to have a spike heel, a handy place to stuff a candy cane or a stack of chocolate kisses. The design is reminiscent of the painting she had on the wall of her apartment and which now graces their bedroom in the loft. Alexis's gift receptacle has stood the test of time, as have Mother's and his own.

He mentally rechecks his list for the Christmas Eve Dinner. As usual, Mother will be making the glug - one thing she can't ruin. The turkey is smaller than the one he cooked for Thanksgiving, but he has a ham to go with it. Kate made her Nonna's special cookies, and he made more than a few of his classic Castle sugary works of art. An assortment will be left for Santa, and no doubt disappear by morning. Castle wanted a side dish Jackson could easily handle and settled on mashed acorn squash. Dinner will also feature the usual array of accompaniments to the succulent fowl, including the candied yams with the obligatory marshmallows.

He's been working on a new recipe for hot chocolate, ever since he had the brew at an eatery where he sipped one while taking advantage of the free Wi-Fi when the service in the loft was briefly out. He'd noticed the darkly sweet beverage was made with chocolate syrup. It seemed to have a touch of coffee, but not enough to qualify as mocha, just an enhancement of the cacao flavor. The generous portion of whipped cream on top was essential, but not what gave it character. After several experiments, he's discovered that with the addition of a few instant espresso crystals, he can come up with a close approximation of the original, but he is still striving for perfection.

With Jackson tugging on anything within reach of his small but strong fingers, Kate suggested that it might be best to forgo a formal tablecloth in favor of placemats. That gave Castle one more chance to introduce the Christmas theme, in quilted green and gold with matching napkin rings. Kate joked that if he ever became stuck again writing fiction, he could always do style books like Martha Stewart. Having found out the hard way that many of the recipes in Stewart's books looked better than they tasted, Castle half believes he might do at least as good a job, but for the moment he's fine with penning Nikki, Derrick, and Drake.

Alexis and Cary will be arriving around five, as will Jim Beckett. That gives Castle some time before he starts obsessing about the perfect Christmas Eve again. His case research is a siren call, but he decides to write a Christmas story, his first one for Jackson, instead. Given Jackson's current fascinations, it will have to be about a car, a red one. In honor of Derrick Storm, it can only be of one make.

 _"Freddy the Ford Focus was lonely. All the rest of the cars were gone for the holiday, and Freddy was parked in the garage by himself. His owner, Jerry, had said that Freddy was too small to haul his skis and all the gear he'd need for his trip to the mountains and had rented Emory the Escape. It wasn't fair. Jerry had taken his dirty clothes-which didn't smell very good - to the laundromat in Freddy. Freddy took Jerry back and forth to work and picked up Jerry's friend Cindy. Freddy never complained when Jerry forgot to wash his red body, left him in the hot sun or the cold snow. He always started when Jerry turned the key and hardly ever made funny noises._

 _"Still, Jerry had left him behind. Suddenly, he noticed that he had a visitor. The garage was closed, but somehow a mouse had squeezed in and was sniffing at Freddy's tires. It seemed to find something it liked. Freddy thought it was the food that had been dropped on the ground and Jerry had driven Freddy over when they went into the drive-thru at McDonough's. Freddy likes a fill-up with premium gas as a treat himself, but to a mouse, the bits of french fries might seem like a Christmas feast._

 _"Freddy is surprised when the mouse scurries away, but it returns a little while later with other mice. They all start nibbling on the treasure in Freddy's treads. Freddy is going to have some Christmas after all. Isn't that what it's all about; sharing whatever you have that gives someone joy? Jerry will give Emory back and drive Freddy again after the holiday. But until then, Freddy is glad that he has been able to make others happy, even if it's just a family of Christmas mice."_


	37. Chapter 37

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 37

The last time Castle can remember having to be so careful unwrapping Christmas presents was before Alexis turned three. Having a toddler scooting about has reminded him of old cautions. The recyclable wrappings are going in a sealed bin. The non-recyclables are being promptly secured in bags for disposal as soon as the unveiling ceremonies are over.

In hopes that playing with them will tire him out enough for a reasonable bedtime, Jackson's gifts are revealed first, with some help from his sister's nimble fingers. He can barely get his arms around the giant teddy bear dressed like a racecar driver but insists on trying to carry it across the room anyway. He jiggles to the beat of the musical table designed to teach him his alphabet in English and Spanish. Castle catches Kate's smile as Jim Beckett gets down on the floor to join his grandson in playing with a toy parking garage, complete with a ramp that toddler-safe cars can be pushed up and down.

Alexis is presented with her bonanza next. Kate had counseled Castle that the most supportive thing he could do for his daughter would be to buy stuff for the apartment she shares with Cary, and Mother had concurred. Putting Martha Stewart aside, he decided to use his daughter's favorite shade of green - the one that she thinks makes her hair look good - as a unifying theme for towels, a tablecloth, and a handmade quilt. He couldn't resist throwing in a tote bag like one of Kate's that Alexis had admired.

While Jim Beckett is still absorbed in playing with Jackson, Mother is the next to receive her Christmas bounty. Castle has rarely had trouble shopping for the diva. If the clothes can barrage the eyes in the back row of a theater, they are usually to her taste. He found a shawl reminiscent of the psychedelic paisleys of the late sixties that suits her personality perfectly. He also bought a faux fur coat in one of the animal prints she adores, along with a matching hat and throwback muff. Kate added in a silky blouse to complement her mother-in-law's eyes.

Jackson's eyelids are finally beginning to droop, and Jim asks to accompany Kate to put him to bed. When they return, he's swiping at his eyes and attributing the tears to a seasonal allergy. Kate places his present, a Louisville Slugger signed by Hank Aaron, in his arms. Castle gifts him with a jacket he'd purchased at a charity auction, which had originally been worn by baseball great Joe Torre.

Castle intends to tuck Kate's earrings into her stocking, as the next morning's Christmas surprise, but he has plenty to give her now. He knew that some of the prints she'd had on the wall in the apartment she'd lost to a bomb from a serial killer, had been damaged beyond repair by smoke and water. He gives her replacements, to hang wherever she wishes in the loft. Jim Beckett brought a scrapbook Johanna had kept, with Kate's papers and pictures from grade school. Someday Kate may even let Castle see it.

Castle is last. He really didn't have anything on his wish list. Being able to spend a family Christmas with Kate is worth more to him than anything money could buy. Still, presents are always fun. Alexis gives him a biography of Edgar Allen Poe with an introduction by Stephen King, which she'd managed to cajole the master of horror into signing. Mother gives him a poster of his favorite space cowboy show, autographed by all the members of the cast. Jim Beckett brought him a framed copy of the review of Heat Wave that was printed in The Ledger.

Castle can't guess what is under the wrappings of Kate's gift to him. It's way too heavy to be clothing or even an action figure. He pulls away the paper to reveal a three-ring binder - a very thick three-ring binder. Inside are copies of the files of every case that he and Kate worked on together, with a "closed" stamp on each, encircled by a heart. After all the grief Kate gave him in the early years about "borrowing" N.Y.P.D. files and evidence, for her to present him with the collection of them is overwhelming. His lips can't find the words. A kiss now, and those that come later will have to communicate the intensity of his feelings.

* * *

The rest of the holiday festivities are on hold until morning, when Castle and Kate finally crawl into bed together. Castle almost expects to hear the beat of tiny hooves on the roof - almost. Kate is not in a kerchief, and he is not wearing a cap. At the moment, the last thing on his mind is settling his brains for a long winter's nap. The scent of cinnamon and vanilla is clinging to Kate's hair and skin, tempting him to a banquet of Beckett. He breathes in the sweetness of peppermint, whether from toothpaste or the last lick from a candy cane, he doesn't know, and he doesn't care. She is more delicious than anything the chef at Q3 could whip up.

He tries to go slowly, to make the fantasy night last, the tip of his tongue tasting one tiny spot at a time. Another part of his body has other ideas - more urgent ones. He can tell by Kate's reaction to the touch of his mouth that she is as impatient as his rebellious member. She strokes him through his Christmas plaid pajama bottoms, before rubbing her heat against his burgeoning hardness. He needs her, flesh against flesh, unhindered by any barriers, no matter how sexy or seasonal. He tugs her translucent red gown over her head, the mussing of her hair adding to the look of green flecked abandon in her eyes.

He pulls at the thin strips of already moist lace that cover her, even as she loosens his drawstring and shoves his pants down his legs. His top is gone. Later he may search for the buttons. Her touch entices as she guides him to the need only he can fill. She is velvet, softer and more luxurious than any that the fanciest of Christmas couture could offer. She surrounds him by both body and spirit. The air is forced from his lungs as they meld and move in the most compelling of rhythms.

Flickers from the twinkle lights that line the window surround them with the magic of the night as they come together. Kate's legs wrap around him, urging him deeper. The tips of her breasts strain toward his chest with every thrust. He can feel the intimate embrace she uses to bring him closer to climax. It is more than he needs; his mouth takes hers just before they are caught in a double tsunami of sensation. A dreamlike fog in which Kate is the only reality shrouds his mind. They can float there together. There is time while Santa rounds the globe; he and Kate can spend all of it in each other's arms. Castle just hopes that he regains the capacity for thought by the time Jackson awakens for his first Christmas. He wants to enjoy every moment of the magic.


	38. Chapter 38

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 38

The sun is up, but Jackson beat the glowing orb to the punch. As usual, he was hungry and wet, but also tuned into Christmas excitement. As soon as he is dry and fed, Castle carries him to the fireplace, where Kate lifts the boy's now weighty stocking from its hook and puts it on the floor for the toddler to explore. There is a brightly colored piano Jackson can play with either his hands or his feet. Jackson goes after a spinner toy before studying the baby laptop with intense concentration.

Kate grins and shakes her head. "Like father like son."

Castle gazes down at his son. "Maybe not. He's going at it full bore, and he isn't facing a deadline or trying to make the rent. He's just banging on that thing out of pure joy. I hope it can always be that way for him."

Kate leans her head against his shoulder. "Yeah, I do too. But you have some joy of your own coming. It looks like Santa stuffed your stocking."

Castle glances back toward the fireplace. "And yours too. Ladies first."

The first gift that Castle sees Kate pull out is a Steiff floppy elephant that he stumbled on while shopping for Jackson. He knows that elephants hold special meaning for her, as his lion does for him, and he decided that she had to have it. She runs the tips of her fingers over the plush surface before giving it a little squeeze and setting it aside. He'd included an assortment of throwback stocking stuffers: a wooden paddle with a ball attached, a slinky, Christmas socks, an orange and handfuls of chocolate kisses in red and green foil. Kate finally reaches the velvet box he'd removed from the safe in the wee hours of the morning and carefully stuffed in the farthest reach of her stiletto boot. Her eyes sparkle at the sight of the rubies and amethysts. Rising on her unshod toes, she presses a kiss to his lips.

Castle wraps his arms around her. "Wow! Santa does all the work, and I get the benefits. I'll take that deal."

Kate urges him to check out his own treasure sack. Castle swallows at the image that has just come to mind but digs into the giant argyle sock and pulls out a Nancy Drew pencil box. "The girl sleuth?"

Kate flutters her lashes. "As you've pointed out, she solved every case. Keep going."

Castle surveys the next item. "A 221B phone cover. The Baker Street Irregulars will be jealous of this." The official game of the Mystery Writers of American and "The Poisoner's Handbook" follow. Finally, he digs out a deerstalker hat. He insists on wearing it immediately. Kate informs him that there's one more thing that goes with it. His fingers curl around a Calabash pipe, and his eyebrows rise. "Kate, you know I've never been into tobacco, even to emulate the world's most clever detective. Or did you have something less legal in mind?"

"Very legal," Kate assures him. "Look again."

Castle realizes that it's a bubble pipe and there's a tiny bottle of soapy solution to go with it.

Kate runs her finger over the flesh and light sprinkling of hair revealed by his robe. "I thought tonight we could see just what kind of fun might pop."

Castle wiggles his eyebrows. "Now how am I supposed to get through the day?"

Kate inclines her head toward the kitchen. "We could start with food. I'm starved. What about those Christmas waffles Alexis told me about?"

"Oh right. Those have been a tradition," Castle recalls, "but she's not going to pick up her stocking for hours. And Mother should be getting hers after she's slept in through the morning. Why don't you grab a quick shower while I do the prep work? I can get mine when you're done, and we can watch the waffles steam together."

Kate agrees to the deal and with Jackson in his high chair fingering dry cereal rings, Castle starts chopping nuts and mashing bananas. His unique touch to the batter is the addition of cinnamon and butterscotch bits, set off by vanilla, a combination that breakfast eateries have yet to hit on. Kate is very quick, and he's just finished when she strolls into the kitchen fully dressed, ready to keep her eyes on their son. Jackson has managed to create a circle of debris around his chair and seems quite proud of himself during the changing of the guard.

Castle half dreams through his own bathing process, with images of just what sorts of fun Kate is picturing with the bubble pipe, flitting through his mind. When he returns to the kitchen, he notes that the waffle iron is up to temperature and the Christmas Culinary Ceremony can begin.

With Jackson again busily engaged at their feet with his baby laptop and his other new loot, Kate and Castle curl up together for some relative downtime, just watching Christmas movies. Castle has always held a special affection for "Miracle on 34th Street," the original, with Edmund Gwenn. When he was a boy, he was drawn to Macy's, seeking the magic of the real Kriss Kringle. He was often disappointed by less than convincing Santa's helpers, but he kept trying. Even as an adult, he admired the fathers - not the rich ones, but the men who would blow an entire paycheck on presents for their children, regardless of what sacrifices they might have to make themselves. They made him feel lucky but also a little guilty that he could buy Alexis whatever she needed or wanted without feeling the bite himself. He'd always made sure he contributed generously to the toy donation boxes and red kettles to try to do his part to make the season as joyous as he could. He was proud when Alexis began to follow his example with her allowance money. He's hoping that when he's older, Jackson will get the message as well.

Kate is a fan of "It's a Wonderful Life." Castle can understand that. She fought so long and so hard to keep evil from triumphing in her own life - and she's still fighting the good fight. They both also love "How the Grinch Stole Christmas," for its inherent hopefulness.

After another day of being blissfully tuckered out by enthusiastic play with his recent acquisitions, Jackson is ready for bed and Castle is ready to find out what Kate had in mind for the bubble pipe. She starts with the familiar, filling the master bathroom's oversized tub with cherry-scented bubbles before inviting Castle to join her - complete with pipe. The bubbles rise, encircling them with glittering globes, like a miniature winter wonderland - without the freezing temperatures. Kate bats at the bubbles, the water splashing around her, her breasts gleaming with foam. Castle can't resist drawing shapes on them with his finger, and she reciprocates, tracing designs on his chest. Their hands stray lower, plunging beneath the warm water to find even warmer targets.

Kate slides between Castle's legs, the slick liquid easing their mutual passage. She wraps around him as they come together, the water sloshing up the sides of the porcelain vessel. Their bodies move effortlessly - almost too effortlessly - against each other, soapy lubrication lessening the sensation of skin against skin. They run their hands up and down each other's bodies, nerve endings firing at the contact. As the water grows colder, the heat rises within them, blood rushing to meet desperate demand. The waves set off within them translate to external ones, almost over-topping their watery playground. After emerging from the gradually dying tides, Castle wraps Kate in a Christmas themed towel, and he can almost swear that the reindeer pictured on it is smiling appreciatively.


	39. Chapter 39

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 39

Kate rests her chin on the top of Castle's head. "What are you reading about?"

Castle points to a picture on the screen of his computer. "Sumatran tigers. They're endangered, but they're poached, especially by farmers. The wildlife groups estimate that there are only a few hundred left. I'd hate to think that any of them ended up as bags for some mindless fashionista."

Kate regards the image. "They are beautiful. They look darker, with more stripes than most of the tigers I've seen pictures of."

Castle agrees. "Exactly why I thought bags made out of their fur would be valuable. They wouldn't look like any of the glorious fakes Mother loves so much. If some crazy clotheshorse was searching for something none of her friends in the Hamptons had, she might be willing to pay big bucks for it - or some jerk who wants to entice her into the sack might shell out too."

Kate's forehead takes on the skeptical grooves Castle knows so well. "But Babe, even if your theory is right, how could you find out? If the bags or the pelts to make them were smuggled, there wouldn't be any records."

Castle nods. "Not official ones, but if someone had something like that, could they resist showing it off? Between the blogs, the tweets and the postings on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter, it would be bound to make an appearance. I know a lot of those links - they're very popular with Gina. They gave me good hints on how to calm troubled waters - and our marriage and reboot both had plenty of those."

Kate's front teeth dig into her bottom lip. "Yeah, I remember what popped up on "Page 6." Listen, I need to go to City Hall for a while. The Task Force is officially off until after the new year, but I have some strategizing I want to do with some of the women. We plan to look into old murders that might have originated with domestic complaints that were not properly handled or ignored entirely because the cops involved didn't want to put their asses on the line over what they thought was just some marital squabble."

Castle reaches for her hand and presses a kiss into the center of her palm. "Sounds like a more than worthwhile endeavor. Jackson and I will find something to do with ourselves."

Kate winks. "Yeah. I'm sure you will. See you later."

Castle brings his computer into the living room where he can watch and if necessary, chase, after Jackson. His son is intent on his baby laptop, giving Castle some time to scan some sites and set a few alerts, but soon is on his small but swift feet, pushing his car, complete with his racer teddy bear as a driver, around the loft. Castle knows better than to let his son out of his sight and regrets that he hasn't strapped on his Fit Bit. He'd be willing to bet that Jackson can give him as good a workout as any paid trainer.

It's too cold for much in the way of outdoor play for a toddler, but Castle is beginning to think about what it would be like to have a backyard - especially one with a fence. It's true that he has the house in the Hamptons where Jackson can run around on the weekends when it gets warmer. He can certainly have some safety fencing put in. He'll have to around the pool, in any case. But he'd love to have a place in addition to the park, where Jackson can play during the week, and that isn't too much of a commute for Kate.

He loves the loft, and he's glad he raised Alexis there, but he can already see that Jackson is going to be a lot more active than his daughter was as a child. He's already picturing the elaborate setups of playhouses and climbing gyms he'd seen displayed in the pages of Sky Mall. He and Jackson could even have a clubhouse together. He can see the two of them eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and flying model helicopters.

It's not as if he couldn't afford a house in the city, it's just that he'd never pictured himself living in one before. He'd grown up in apartments and become aware of summer homes when he'd spent holidays with classmates from boarding school. Even during Mother's more prosperous years, she'd always wanted to be as close to the theater as possible, and a Manhattan apartment was the most convenient and practical place to live. He'll have to talk with Kate, of course, but he's wondering if it might soon be time for a change.

He sniffs the air and mutters to himself. "On the subject of changes…"

Castle has just finished washing his hands when an alert goes off on his laptop. He brings up a site called "Out There, Accessories." There is a posting about a tiger fur bag, complete with a picture of one being worn by an up and coming socialite named Bitsy Mortimer. The pixelation of the photograph is high enough that he can zoom in without losing too much definition. He sends the resulting image to his printer so he can use his favorite lighted magnifier to examine the details further. He carefully compares the fur to multiple shots of Sumatran tigers. There is one dead giveaway. Near the tail of some Sumatran tigers, the stripes become spots. There is a similar pattern at the edge of the bag. There is no doubt that an endangered animal died so that Bitsy could make a fashion statement. Well, she's going to have to make a few more statements, and they won't end up on some trendy blog.

* * *

Kate examines the pictures Castle hands her. "You're right Castle, if Bitsy's bag is real, it is from a Sumatran Tiger."

Castle snorts. "It's real, all right. I know about Out There, Accessories. Its readers have no interest in faux furs or anything else they regard as strictly for fashion-challenged masses. Whoever posted the story might not be aware that the fur came from an endangered animal but would make sure that it was attached to a skin, not a fabric backing."

Kate puts her hand on his arm and nods. "Castle, if you're sure of that, I think U.S. customs, and possibly the detectives investigating Celia Leder's murder would love to have a chat with Bitsy Mortimer. With any luck, the lead on the homicide case may let me sit in. I shouldn't have much trouble finding out who that is - not with all the rumors that have been flying about the case. As soon as I get an in, I'll let you know."

Castle wraps his arms around her. "Have I told you recently how much I adore you?"

She shoves her hands into his back pockets. "Not since we were immersed in bubbles last night."

Castle pulls her against him. "An appalling omission to be sure. I am madly, hopelessly and irretrievably in love with you, Katherine Beckett." Jackson bumps his push car against their legs. Castle laughs and shakes his head. "We'll have to continue this conversation later."

Kate gives his behind a quick squeeze. "I'm counting on it."


	40. Chapter 40

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 40

While waiting impatiently for his information concerning Sumatran tiger bags and Bitsy Mortimer to filter through various bureaucracies, Castle decides to work on plans for New Year's Eve. He won't be needing reservations. He and Kate have agreed that with their own New Years' baby, it is better to stay in.

With Kate's breasts no longer the primary source of Jackson's nutrition, she can share in some good Champagne. Castle plans on a genuinely excellent vintage. Neither one of them has been able to get into watching the new version of New Years' Rockin' Eve, except maybe for the ball drop, if they can stay awake that long. It's Kate's preference to stream a jazz festival, and Castle's more than happy with that. He's always loved how cool jazz generates Beckett heat.

Once Jackson is fed, the meal for himself and Kate should be something special. Castle believes in doing anything he can that could bring good luck, but he's never been a fan of the traditional black-eyed peas. He's thinking more in terms of prime rib with a juicy pink center and the bite of accompanying horseradish sauce. Kate loves thick steak fries, and he adores watching her sink her teeth into them. He also thinks that the sweet nuttiness of a Waldorf salad would usher in a new year beautifully. He envisions something with chocolate, but suggestively creamy, for dessert. Eclairs will be perfect, and his favorite bakery makes great ones. Fresh fruit and cheese will be a lovely counterpoint to the soulful wail of a sax.

Speaking of wails, there's anguish emanating from the nursery monitor. From the tone of it, Jackson has managed to toss Lightning McQueen out of his crib - again. Sal Cardano was right. Jackson does have a good arm - too good. Castle goes to check. Sure enough, the stuffed car is on the floor, and his son also needs a change.

He can tell right away that Jackson is not about to return to the Land of Nod anytime soon. He and his laptop will be spending most of the rest of the day in toddler play world. With any luck, he might even get some work done, but he's not counting on it. Kate has another impromptu meeting at City Hall and seems to think she's making good progress setting up her program to revisit the question of how many of the old cases were actually the result of domestic violence. Castle is entirely in her corner on that one. It disgusts and bewilders him that people who are supposed to love each other can treat each other that way. He's hoping that the efforts of Kate and her group can lead to a better understanding of how to short-circuit the violence before it leads to more tragedies.

Jackson toddles over to shove one of his slightly dampened fabric books into Castle's lap. Castle doesn't know if Jackson is more fond of listening to the story or teething on it, but he obviously enjoys having Castle read it to him. Of course, it's about a car. While he is reading, Jackson makes noises that Castle would love to believe are imitations of the sound of an engine.

He is just finishing the last sentence when Kate returns home, and she's not looking happy. Apparently, a monetary missive has come down from on high - she's not sure from precisely whom - that she can only delve deeper into the old suspected domestic abuse cases if they appear to be tied more current crimes. Castle's not sure whether to tell her that he's sure she'll find connections or not. Serial abusers are not an encouraging thought, especially not one on which to usher in a new year.

* * *

Castle's hoping the new year's dinner he planned will serve as a release from the malaise that has been draining the joy from his wife ever since she received the budgetary bad tidings. She's anxious enough to sink her teeth into the succulent meat as if she's tearing a hole in some municipal bean counter, but Kate doesn't really seem to relax until she is engulfed by the tinkly joy of a jazz orchestral rendition of St. Thomas. As Castle pops a grape into her mouth, she snuggles into his shoulder. "Thinking of a tropical beach somewhere?" he wonders.

Kate shrugs. "I don't know about the tropics, but right now this city isn't impressing me much."

Castle gets it. "So what if we pretend we have our own island retreat?"

Kate rolls her eyes. "Castle, what are you talking about?"

He points at the screen. "You're already transported by that music. After it, we can play some calypso or whatever keeps the mood going and put on some summer clothes. Instead of Champagne, we can sip some fruity drinks - heavy on the rum. We could even make creating our own Eden a new tradition for ushering in the coming year. Instead of the ball dropping, imagine the temperature - and your spirits - rising."

Kate pokes a finger in his chest. "You know you're nuts, right?"

Castle caresses her lips with his thumb. "There was a study that proved that people who ate nuts lived longer."

Kate shakes her head. "I'm not even going to touch that, but Castle if you want to do something more interesting than watching people crammed into Times Square counting down for some hunk of expensive crystal to plunge, find some vintage Harry Belafonte.

Castle salutes. "Yes, Ma'am! One Banana Song singer coming up. Oops! That didn't come out quite the way I meant it."

After downloading the music Kate requested, Castle searches through the freezer. He thought he remembered that there were some frozen strawberries in there, and there are; his emergency supply for waffle topping. They'll be even better in daiquiris. He crosses his fingers that the whir of the blender won't wake Jackson. Fortunately, his son seems down for the count, or at least until his tummy makes its early morning demands.

Kate has grabbed a thin white T-shirt and dug in her closet to find a short white cotton skort that couldn't be more fetching. Castle is going to slip on a Hawaiian shirt that's bright enough even for his mother to admire and a pair of Bermuda shorts. It's a mix of destinations, but that only adds to the fun.

Next year Castle can plan ahead to order some blow-up palm trees, and get some brightly colored flowers. Birds of Paradise would be lovely and fit the theme beautifully. He could also stock in some coconuts and maybe a pineapple or two for piña coladas. He might even procure some sand or project some video of tropical fish swimming in and out of a reef, but for now, they can just let the music and the alcohol bring island images to mind.

He spreads beach towels on the floor and props himself against some pillows while Kate lays against his chest, sipping a frozen red concoction. The syncopated beat of the music washes over them and the new year arrives, unheralded by cheers, popping corks or choruses of "Auld Lang Syne." Castle greets it with optimism. He's starting it with Kate in his arms and Jackson peacefully navigating a toddler dreamscape. What could possibly be better than that?


	41. Chapter 41

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 41

When Kate comes through the door of the loft, Castle can't wait to ask her what Bitsy Mortimer said.

Kate shakes loose of the wool wrap coat she's been wearing against the January chill. "She said that she had no idea that she'd done anything illegal, but if the U.S. didn't want Sumatran tiger fur being smuggled into the country that customs agents really should do a better job spending her tax money. Babe, I really wanted to slap the superior look off her face."

Castle pours a glass of red wine and hands it to Kate. "Did she at least say who sold her the bag?"

Kate takes a gulp of the scarlet liquid. "She claims that she buys all her accessories through her stylist, Tuck Speelman. Supposedly, he's off skiing somewhere. The detectives are trying to track him down."

Castle's heard the name before. Alexis' mother had mentioned him last time she was in town, but not in a complimentary way. He tells Kate that Meredith claimed Speelman had no judgment of quality and that the women with a true retail eye thought his clients looked like they worked on the streets - and not to shoot exterior shots. His ex-wife is flighty about a lot of things, but she knows fashion. He's pretty sure that if she thinks there's something wrong with Tuck as a stylist, there is.

Kate sighs. "It's a long jump between picking out lousy accessories and being involved with smugglers. But I guess we'll find out. We are making progress on a cold domestic violence case, but not the kind of progress anyone wants to see. In the original case, a woman had wounds from a bush hammer."

Castle admits that's a weapon with which he's not familiar.

Kate nods. "I didn't know what one is either. It's not something my dad had in his toolbox, and you don't use one to work on motorcycles. It's a masonry tool. The end of it has a grid made up of sharp points. The marks it leaves are very nasty but very distinctive. The original victim, Lindy Sloan, was found in a dumpster. She wasn't near any construction. Her girlfriend thought that Lindy had a boyfriend who worked in the building trades, but she didn't even know his name. The investigators couldn't locate any contractors who'd put in masonry that matched with the tool. I don't know how hard they looked. Anyway, the trail went cold, and Lindy's killer was never found. But there have been two cases in the past two years, where women were beaten and killed in their own apartments. They had marks from a bush hammer. In both cases, neighbors said they heard arguments between the victim and some unknown man. One of them called the cops, but nothing came of it - until someone was found dead. No one knows who the man was, except that he had an accent they didn't recognize, which with New Yorkers, pretty much lets out the outer boroughs and Puerto Ricans. Could be he was undocumented, maybe someone who's overstayed his visa and was paid under the table. Some contractors love to hire workers like that because they can stiff them on their wages and they can't complain or file suit. If he's still in the city, or even the country, he's going to be hell to track down."

Castle points out that she's solved cases with fewer clues, and a unique weapon and an exotic accent are pretty good ones.

Kate sucks her lower lip into her mouth and nods slowly. "Yeah, but it's a lot easier if you start within the 48-hour window. This guy could be anywhere, but Lanie is putting out feelers in her M.E. network to see if anyone's seen bush hammer marks. So, what have you and Jackson been up to?"

Castle can't help grinning. "I gave him the leg from a Cornish game hen to try. He really went at it. I think he might be a candidate for the drumette lover's club. He loves to get those new teeth of his into things - not unlike his mother."

Kate mimes biting his earlobe. "I've never seen you let go of a case either, Babe."

Castle acknowledges that it's true, but right now he's writing a new fictional one, a Drake Bentley. His intrepid hero is after a model toy car thief. Castle's been looking up information and videos on old automobiles, and several times Jackson has surveyed the images on his father's tablet with fascination. Castle put on a video of a NASCAR race and Jackson sat still for an unheard of 20 minutes, watching. He's wondering if his son might grow up to write for Car and Driver.

As far as Kate is concerned that would be preferable to seeing her son behind the wheel of a race car.

It's Castle's turn to roll his eyes. "This from the woman who couldn't wait to get her leg over a Harley. Welcome to the world of obsessing over the safety of your offspring. You'll probably spend the rest of your life here."

Obviously hurrying to change the subject, Kate wants to know what Castle was doing with a Cornish game hen. He explains that it is also a factor in his story, which features a villain who likes everything small; small cars, houses, and very petite women. Besides the toy cars, the thief specializes in stealing rare miniatures - artwork and sculptures. He also prefers baby peas, baby corn, and cherry tomatoes. In the end, Drake will track him down by his eating habits. Castle's been doing a bit of culinary research and still has all the leftovers. He wonders is Kate is OK with eating them.

Kate is fine with integrating the meat and tiny vegetables into dinner, but more interested in Castle's ideas about tracking culprits by their habits. Castle points out that he recalls that they located one suspect by his hair gel. He's wondering if there might have been any clues to the killer's habits left behind on the bodies murdered with a bush hammer that might have been overlooked.

Castle turns from retrieving containers from the refrigerator. "You could ask Lanie to inquire about stomach contents. That would fit in with the mysterious accent. He might be into regional food as well. Some ingredients that aren't common here, are used in foreign cookery and medicinals. I've run up against those several times in research for Derrick Storm books. I was thinking about having him healed by some sexy medicine woman, but I kept seeing Jane Seymour in my mind and had to junk the idea. It's been done too many times anyway, at least back to Steve Trevor crashing on Themyscira and being treated by the Amazons. Maybe you'll get lucky."

Kate gets out the wok for a stir-fry. "I could definitely use some luck on this case - all the luck I can get. Lanie will be getting the full autopsy reports, and I can request the lab info. Maybe something will turn up."

Castle palms the firm curve of her derriere. "It would be lovely to see the corners of your mouth turn up. This case, the whole domestic violence thing has been pretty hard on you. For something strangely delectable, I could add my secret ingredient to all those mini components."

Kate waves him toward the wok. "Go for it!"

He urges her to step back and close her eyes before reaching for the jar of peanut butter.

A/N Now this is not so secret. If you do a stir-fry with soy sauce, peanut butter will not only immediately thicken the sauce, it will taste fantastic. It's a trick I'm sure Castle would have loved almost as much as eating the stuff off a spoon.


	42. Chapter 42

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 42

"That," Castle notes as Kate strides into the loft, "is the most cheerful look I've seen on your face in days."

Kate wraps her arms around his waist. "The credit should really belong to you, Babe. The feds collared Speelman. His brownstone was full of contraband including the tiger fur bags stolen from Ultimate Safari. He didn't kill Celia Leder or blow up the water main. The smugglers did that to get back their misdirected shipment, but Speelman knew about it, so he's guilty of conspiracy. To save his ass, he couldn't wait to flip on anyone even remotely connected with the smuggling operation, right back to connections in Asia and Africa. Our people will be cooperating with the authorities there. You did a great job figuring out what was going on. At least a few more endangered animals may get to keep wearing their skins."

Castle points to the wine keeper in the kitchen. "We never did drink the Champagne I bought for New Year's Eve. We could remedy that situation tonight."

* * *

Castle settles into the couch to clink glasses with his wife after they've managed to get Jackson to sleep, hopefully for the night. "Kate, criminals aren't allowed to profit from their crimes, are they?"

Kate's eyebrow lifts. "No Castle, they aren't. Why?"

Castle can feel a twinge of excitement. "I was just wondering if Speelman's brownstone was purchased with his ill-gotten gains, what's going to happen to it?"

Kate's eyes narrow. "That's not all you've been thinking about."

"No, it isn't," Castle confesses. "The way Jackson runs around, we're going to need someplace with a yard, one that's closed in, and some of those brownstones, especially the ones built in the 1890s, have them. It's more convenient for both of us to stay in Manhattan, or at least within easy commuting distance. If Speelman's brownstone is seized, it will go up for auction. It could be the perfect place to raise Jackson. Is there any chance you could pull a string or two, so we can get a look at the place?"

Kate takes a sip from her crystal flute. "I might be able to, Castle. Or you might have some luck asking Weldon or his buddies. But I never thought you'd want to give up the loft."

Castle admits that he didn't either until he reached near exhaustion from chasing Jackson around. He realized that his son is going to need a place to burn off some energy and the living room of the loft might not be the best choice.

As usual, the skeptical specks appear in Kate's eyes, but she promises to look into Speelman's property. Castle realizes that he hasn't asked about the bush hammer murders and Kate hasn't mentioned them. He inquires what Kate found out.

Kate's nose scrunches adorably. "There was a thing with one of the victims. Something weird was in her stomach and regurgitated onto her blouse. The M.E. who did the autopsy didn't know what to make of it, and I don't either. The whole thing might have just been an accident if she realized what she ate, and was sick."

Curiosity pushes Castle to the edge of the couch. "What did she eat that was disgusting enough to make her barf?"

Kate makes a gagging sound. "It was fish mixed with ants."

Castle bounces against the sofa cushions. "Kate, I know what that is! I saw it on one of those cooking travel shows. In places where they don't have any citrus, they use ants to add formic acid to brighten the flavor of fish. There's a species from Australia that they use called the tyrant ant. Maybe a hammer isn't the only bush thing our killer likes. But they don't make fish that way just in Australia. It's done in Denmark too, maybe other places as well. We can find out. Maybe the killer fed his favorite dish from home to his girlfriend and when she upchucked, he freaked out and bashed her with his weapon of choice. Pretty twisted, but unfortunately, we've both seen even more twisted murders."

Kate has to agree that they have. She follows Castle to his office where he flips open his laptop. "Countries where they serve fish with ants. Hmm. China, some other Asian countries, the Netherlands, Brazil. Most people in New York would recognize an Asian accent. Dutch or Brazilian might be more obscure."

Kate suggests that the killer might have grown up in one country and moved to another when young, which might confuse the accent even more. Castle concurs and suggests that there would have to be one or another kind of ethnic food vendor in the areas of the killings. If there's one type in common, they should be able to narrow down the origin of the killer even better. In his opinion, their development of that possible lead should be enough of a justification to return to their Champagne and general canoodling.

Kate indicates her enthusiastic agreement by hooking her fingers into his belt and leading him back to the couch. The Champagne has warmed and flattened. Castle dumps out the glasses and replaces the contents with liquid kept cool in an ice bucket. The rising bubbles tickle the roof of Castle's mouth, but he can also feel a rise elsewhere. More than familiar with the signs of his arousal, Kate inclines her head toward the bedrooom.

The duvet that covered the bed has been replaced by a wedding ring quilt, a Christmas gift from Kate's Aunt Theresa. Castle pulls the hand wrought covering back, revealing invitingly soft microfiber sheets. He unclasps the jade barrette Kate is using to secure her hair, allowing it to flow enticingly free, and caresses her cheekbone with his thumb.

Kate is aiming lower, unbuckling his belt and pulling it free from the loops of his jeans. As she sends the denim flying into a corner of the room, they fall to the bed together, garments scattering to be retrieved later.

The taste of Kate's lips is heady with Champagne and excitement. Her tongue plows deep into his mouth as her breasts press against his chest. His hands trace the curves of her body, supporting and molding her to him. She feels heated and pliant, but not yet ready. She jerks as his fingers find her sensitive nub, which grows and hardens at his touch. Her legs rise in invitation, her knees almost flanking her head.

His entrance is smooth, yet he can feel the pressure of her surrounding him as he plunges deep within her moist sheath. Her mouth collides with his, their tongues seeking greater depth. He needs more. He flips her above him, her breasts seducing his eyes and her wild hair a declaration of abandon as she rides. His fingers find her again. He can hear her breath catching as she lands each post more intensely. She is contracting around him, urging his impending explosion to merge with her own. The climax rocks them both and Kate collapses, warm and limp against his skin. Awareness returns slowly. Kate rolls beside him and pulls the sheet up to cover their bare bodies. It is a long time before either one of them reaches for the warmth of Theresa's quilt. They can always pick up their haphazardly tossed clothing in the morning.

A/N Guest, I've never seen Tropic Thunder. Tuck is the name of an actor and Speelman is our electrician.


	43. Chapter 43

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 43

Kate gazes around the venerable but solid structure. "Castle, this place is incredible."

Castle feels like his grin is about to crack his face. "I know, right? And Weldon says that since Speelman pleaded guilty and there won't be a trial, the city is going to expedite the sale. The city and the feds can use the money; they're going to split it. And we can use the house, assuming the backyard is what it's supposed to be. We need to go look."

"You still have to win the auction," Kate reminds him, "and there's no way a brownstone like this is going to go cheap."

Castle wiggles his eyebrows. "But the auction isn't going to allow for financing. Cash on the barrelhead. That will eliminate a lot of buyers. I have my business manager ready to pull the trigger on liquidating some of my investments right now. If we have to pay a premium to grab it, we will - as long as the yard measures up. There must be a door to it at the back somewhere."

A long hallway with a hardwood floor stretches the length of the building, leading to a small room with an exit to the outside. Castle watches Kate's mouth fall open. Apparently, Tuck Speelman had intended the high-walled retreat as an adult playground. There is a huge spa and a covered dining area complete with lights. There are also weatherproof but extremely sturdy loungers. "We'll have to put in an enclosure and a locking cover for the spa," Castle notes, "and we might want to downsize the dining area into something less formal that won't overpower the space. There will be room to put in play equipment for Jackson and an area for him to run around. And it will be a few years at least before he learns to scale that wall. Looks like we could have a romp or two out here ourselves.

Kate grabs a handful of Castle's behind. "Ya think? Tell your business manager to get busy."

Castle pulls his cell phone out of his pocket to make the call. Kate's phone buzzes just as Castle finishes his conversation. He can see her face light up. "What happened?"

"Castle, we got a hit from a Portuguese market. They have a customer who is a mason. They know because he did some work for them."

Castle can feel himself growing even more excited than he already was about the house. "And markets were selling Portuguese specialties in the area of all the bush hammer killings, right?"

"More or less," Kate agrees, "Some of them would have been a pretty long drive, but he would have been able to get what he wanted."

Castle's stomach lurches. "And force his girlfriends to try to choke it down. Where's that market?"

Kate scrolls through her text. "Newark, in the Ironbound Section. We'll have to coordinate with the New Jersey Troopers, and maybe the Newark cops, but we should be able to bring this guy in."

Castle wishes out loud that he could see Kate grill the mauling mason. She bumps him with her hip. "I just might be able to arrange that."

* * *

Kate is back in her old stomping grounds in the box at the 12th Precinct with a detective and an A.D.A., staring down Martim Bastos. Even through the glass in the observation room, the look in the man's eyes is unnerving. Castle recalls a similar feeling when Jerry Tyson dropped his mask.

Kate lifts an evidence bag containing a bush hammer that was discovered on a search of Martim's apartment. "There are traces of blood on this with DNA that matches a woman named Lindy Sloan. You killed her and then left her like garbage in a dumpster. And she's not the only woman you murdered. The pattern on this hammer matches marks on three other dead bodies. It has your fingerprints on it. You were seen or heard by the neighbors of the women you killed. You are going away for the rest of your life."

Before she continues, Kate glances at the A.D.A. who nods. "There is one way you might be able to make the rest of your life more bearable, Martim. You tell us about all the women you've killed over the years, give their families some peace, and we can arrange it, so Bubba doesn't make you his girlfriend. You might even be able to see the sun or watch a movie once in a while. You stay silent, and you will be at the mercy of every con in the penitentiary, and I guarantee you, they aren't very merciful."

Castle can see stains growing at Martim's armpits. Kate has him. Now all she has to do is wait. She's doing a great job of it, tapping her fingernails on the evidence bag and flipping through the murderer's file like she has all the time in the world. She lets Martim stew for an hour until he finally asks her what she needs to know. Just in time too. Castle needs to get home to relieve Buttons. He and Kate can celebrate her victory later.

* * *

Castle always gets nervous before Valentine's Day. When he was a little boy, it was because he was afraid that he wouldn't get any valentines except the one from Mother. Often his fears were realized. By high school, it was usually about a girl and how to get her something nice or take her somewhere, on his very limited funds. In college, Kyra was of the opinion that Valentine's celebrations were mostly for the benefit of the greeting card companies and the candy makers. He's not sure she was entirely wrong about that, but he is too much of a romantic not to take the holiday seriously.

He wants this year to be extra special. Kate is still fighting City Hall for the budget to pursue her cases. She can use an opportunity to relax and think loving thoughts. After hot-footing after Jackson most days, he can use some time like that himself. The question is how to get it.

Alexis will be having her own night with Cary, one he'd rather not think about too much. Buttons let him know that she has a date on Valentine's Night and Mother has a performance. He could try to get someone who's been properly vetted by an agency, but he hates to stick Jackson with a stranger.

He and Kate can stay in. He can always festoon the bedroom with candles and flowers. He's already ordered the best chocolate covered strawberries, and he has a case of Kate's favorite red wine. But there has to be something more.

He'd be willing to watch a chick flick, but Kate's not much of a fan. There are romantic mysteries. Even Sci-Fi can be pretty tender. Forbidden planet is - after a fashion. But settling down in front of any of that just isn't up to the Castle standards of creativity. He needs something else. If he thinks about it hard enough, an idea will come to him. Maybe taking Jackson for a tour of their new home to be - if he can get his hands on the keys again - will give him some inspiration.


	44. Chapter 44

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 44

Castle would love to be able to let Jackson run free, but until he's checked the yard for toxic plants and any other hazards, his son will have to remain in his portable stroller. There isn't much growing in February. What looks like they may be rose bushes are bare, and the grass is brown and frost-burned. A few courageous flowers are pushing upward. Castle delights to recognize them as crocuses. He's found his inspiration for his Valentine's Day celebration with Kate. Like the stubborn crocuses, she has persisted against all the odds. Crocuses will be her plant-kingdom avatars. Now he just has to find purple ones.

* * *

While Kate is at work, Castle transforms the loft into a flowery fantasy. Locating enough purple crocuses was no easy task, but fortunately, a friend with an estate in Forest Hills had a garden full of them he was willing to part with for a case of 50-year-old scotch. Castle and Jackson took a field trip to gather them. Castle had no idea there were so many purple varieties. The one he will be featuring the most is the lighter colored Saffron Crocus which most closely matches the painting Kate holds so dear. Castle also purchased a single long-stemmed red rose to put on her pillow as a symbol of their love, but the crocuses - carefully out of Jackson's reach - are the stars of his Valentine's extravaganza.

In keeping with the color scheme, he also found some fresh plums to serve with soft Brie and Kate's favorite spicy crackers. Highlighting another of his favorite aspects of Kates personality, dinner will be King Crab legs which Kate loves cracking and tearing into to retrieve the tender meat, much the way she cracks cases. Of course, there will be bling, but Kate will be expecting that. The rest of his celebration will be a surprise. Castle's also anxious to find out what kind of epiphany Kate has in mind for him.

Kate's late. That's not unusual. She often gets lost in a case and loses track of time. It's not really a problem except for making sure all the water in the crab pot doesn't boil away before he can use it. Jackson is happily both eating and creating art with his favorite vegetable - cooked squash. To Castle's eyes, it clashes with the color palette in the rest of the loft, but his son reaches the slumber-seeking stage faster on a full stomach. He's hoping for Jackson's eyelids to droop relatively early into the evening.

When Kate finally arrives, Castle can detect a bulge in her tote bag. Excellent. Better still, there is a gleam of moisture in her eyes when he explains the crocuses. He hopes it's from joy, not an allergy, and her kiss is definitely of the joyful variety.

* * *

Despite his happy tummy, Jackson is as stubborn as his mother and her floral icons. It's almost 10 before he falls asleep. Castle has yet to glimpse the mysterious contents of Kate's bag or present her with his own gift, and he can tell that they're both feeling a bit rung out.

Castle lights the fireplace and he and Kate sink down on the couch in front of it, glasses of red wine in hand. As Kate sighs and closes her eyes, Castle pulls a box from his pocket and places it on her lap. Her fingers explore the velvet nap on its surface before her eyelids rise. She flips it open to view a charm bracelet. Castle imagines that on Valentine's Day the heart charm is predictable, but he has added a miniature file folder, a cell phone, a computer, and a "Case Closed," to symbolize her job. There's also a spoon, a diaper, and a teddy bear. She holds out her wrist for him to clasp the reflection of her life where it can be seen.

Pushing herself stiffly from her comfy seat, she retrieves her bag and extracts a strangely shaped item wrapped in shiny mylar. Castle feels the contours of the gift, before pulling it from its covering. It is strangely familiar. He traces the black plastic and silver signature with his fingers. "A Darth Vader mask signed by James Earl Jones! How did you get this?"

Kate explains that she bid on it as part of an online charity auction because she knew Castle would love it, and just got lucky. She was keeping it at work. Castle pulls her close. "I'm the one that got lucky to have you as my valentine."

Kate trails her fingers down his thigh. "Would you like to get lucky again?"

He searches her face. "I thought you were tired."

Kate pulls at a button on his shirt. "I got my second wind. Crocuses, remember. We push through to open to the sun - or whatever we open to."

In Castle's opinion, a second wind or any opening is never to be wasted. His knees are only protesting slightly as he lifts her in his arms to carry her to the bedroom. The red rose is still on her pillow, and she breathes in its fragrance before setting it on the nightstand.

They undress languidly, taking the time to enjoy every inch they reveal of each other. Castle strokes Kate from her breasts to the tips of her toes, feeling the tiny quivers of response beneath his hands. Her strong fingers encircle him as her tongue darts out with the lightest touch. She is like a match to tinder and Castle can feel the blood coursing to the center of her attentions. He doesn't need to say a word as her mouth replaces her hand. His fingers plunge deep into her hair as the room blurs around him. There are only Kate and the fire sweeping through him as her lips stoke the blaze.

He can feel the first pearlescent drops released from bondage as she pulls back, only to guide him to a deeper, warmer tunnel that holds him in its grasp. Her body arches under his intimate caress, as they move together in passion's thrall. He can feel the waves crashing through her, matching the explosion within his loins. He holds her against him as the pounding tide ebbs to gentle ripples and they can lie together, enrobed in the night.

* * *

Kate groans as the alarm goes off on her phone. She tells Castle that the last thing she wants that morning is to go to a meeting with the police brass and City Council members, but she has to attend. Getting enough funding for her task force to do its job, depends on it.

Castle swings his legs over the side of the bed. He can hear the bells, whirs, and animal sounds emanating from Jackson's crib toy. His son is going to want out any minute, whether Castle feels like moving his butt or not. He reaches for his robe. With a little luck, he may have time to start coffee before Jackson becomes insistent. He just manages to load the machine before his son's summons echoes through the loft.

It's just as well that he and Kate are getting an early start. She has things to do, but so does he. A real estate agent is coming to prepare a listing on the loft. Staying ahead of Jackson to pick the place up will be no easy task, but with enough caffeine and enthusiasm, he'll handle it.


	45. Chapter 45

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 45

Castle doesn't need to worry about packing. The movers will do that. He just has to keep an eye on Jackson to make sure the boy isn't freaked out by the changes. Taking him out somewhere while the professional packers do their jobs wouldn't be a bad idea either. Kate only has one meeting planned for the morning, then she said she was going to come home.

Maybe she can meet Castle and Jackson somewhere - like the Mommy, Daddy and Baby Gym. Jackson loves the place, with all the brightly colored foam filled structures to explore. There are a few things for parents too, notably weights which are kept on racks too high on the wall for the toddlers to reach. Castle has never been much into weightlifting except to build the upper body strength and endurance necessary for fencing. Even for that sport, he's always found the multiple reps with smaller weights required to build smooth muscle, boring as hell. They were occasionally worth the effort, to win a light-saber tournament or two, but he hasn't had time for many of those in the past couple of years and doesn't expect to anytime soon. There will be a movement class later for parents and their toddlers. If Kate arrives in time, they can all get down to the lively if corny music together.

Remembrances of Alexis dancing around the loft fill his mind's eye. That will never happen again. It's unlikely it would have in any case. She and Cary are pretty serious, and he suspects that an engagement may be on the horizon. If she dances, it will be with the man she's declared to be her soulmate. Still, the loft is filled with millions of memories, and much as he's convinced he's doing the right thing for Jackson, the move will be wrenching.

* * *

Kate shows up at the gym a bit later than Castle expected she would. She stopped by the loft briefly to grab an outfit more appropriate to giving a wiggle, than the trim suit and heels she wore to her meeting. She tells Castle that she had to dig into wardrobe boxes to get it. The packers are moving along pretty fast. At the rate they're going, the contents of the loft should be boxed, moved and unpacked by late afternoon. She's going to want to be at the brownstone to supervise, as is Castle. They can take turns riding herd on Jackson, and having the yard for him to play in will come in handy.

Castle has already had some of the play equipment installed. The rest, including the treehouse, will have to wait until Jackson is a few years older. The spa, now filled and fully operational, is newly surrounded by a secure enclosure, with the locking cap serving as a double safeguard. Castle had a botanist come in and check for any plants that would have to be fenced or removed and recommend harmless ones for the gardener to plant for spring. The yard will not only be a safe haven but pleasing to the eye.

As the toddlers in the gym bounce around to the music, Jackson is a champion wiggler, but Castle is enjoying watching Kate, too. She is displaying none of the sinuousness that characterizes her seductive motion when it is just the two of them, but the way she jiggles is adorable. Castle notes the slightly red-faced look on the only other father in the room, who is doing his best to get with the program. Castle sends him an encouraging look. He can remember a few moments of embarrassment himself in early classes with Alexis until he decided that it wasn't worth giving a damn about what anyone else thought. And it turned out that for the most part, the other parents weren't paying attention to anyone except their little ones and the instructor anyway.

The truth is that until he met Kate, he'd gotten over caring what much of anyone thought - in or out of a gym - except maybe for the opinions of his readers about his books. That changed the moment she walked into his book party. He worked like hell not to show it, but after that, everything he did that wasn't about his family, was all about Kate. Now the circle is complete. Everything is about his family, including Kate.

He checks his watch. If he takes Kate and Jackson to lunch after the class, things should work out just about right for meeting the movers at the house. He already has a portable crib there on the off chance that Jackson might actually decide to spend part of the afternoon napping. The toddler's explorations at the gym and exertions during the class may help with that.

* * *

Fast moving Kate snags the last available high chair as Castle and Jackson stake out a table at Family Circus - a restaurant down the block from the gym and a popular place for parents to recover while their little ones enjoy a variety of meals intended for the grasp of small fingers. Castle and Kate both get massive cheeseburgers to replenish their own supplies of energy. As a fortified family, the Castles arrive at the brownstone just as the moving van is pulling up.

Castle takes Jackson out to the yard while Kate supervises the unloading and unpacking. Between the yard and the gym, Jackson is mercifully ready for a nap by three in the afternoon. Once Jackson is down, Castle slumps in a newly unloaded chair to recover enough to deal with setting up the kitchen.

* * *

It's ten o'clock. Jackson is finally asleep - hopefully for the night - in his regular crib. As Castle and Kate lie side by side on the barely made bed, he isn't sure that he could move if he wanted to. She doesn't seem to be doing much better. The house is livable, if in need of finishing touches. They had managed to muddle through preparing dinner and had loaded and run the dishwasher.

The bed is familiar, but everything else feels strange to Castle. Linus is not yet on the wall. Fewer city lights penetrate the windows, and the solidly built structure seems quieter than the loft. During Martha's gypsy years, Castle lived in a lot of places. The loft was the most longstanding residence he had, but he expects that he and Kate will occupy the brownstone for many years to come. He rolls on his side, wordlessly inviting her to spoon.

As long as she is with him, anywhere, even a shack in the woods would be home, but a piece of New York history is better - especially since the heating, air conditioning, and appliances have all been updated and the Wi-Fi is working. He's receiving all the TV channels he wanted, too. The vacuum system will be installed the next day. A couple of armoires to provide extra closet space will be delivered as well. The brownstone has more rooms than the loft did. He and Kate will get to furnish those together.

Kate's mark will be throughout the house, except that now Castle can have both an office and a den of his own. Come to think of it, a den is where Linus should belong. And Kate will have a room for the workouts she craves - at least the ones that don't involve him. She snuggles into the curve of his body, and his arms automatically enfold her. Yes, he is home.


	46. Chapter 46

Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 46

There are twinkle lights all along the edge of the wall around the yard and even on the treehouse. A wedding canopy has been erected, in respect for Cary's parents, and chairs have been set up for guests on both sides of the aisle. The bride and her attendants will tread on woven hemp fabric instead of damp grass, sparing some very expensive shoes. One of Cary's physics professors who also has a master's in theology and is an ordained minister, will conduct an ecumenical ceremony. At the reception, set up inside the brownstone, the food will be kosher to accommodate Cary's family. Musicians who are friends with both Cary and Alexis have volunteered to provide the music.

Mother has been sweeping about, assuring herself that the flowers are perfect, and the atmosphere is suitably dramatic. Castle is sure that the last thing Alexis wants today is drama. There's been enough of that, making arrangements amenable to Cary's parents and determining how to keep the guest list down without insulting anyone. When the couple decided to have their wedding in Jackson's beloved yard, the latter problem took care of itself. There is only room for a reasonably intimate ceremony.

Jackson will be the ringbearer and has had great fun practicing. He's wearing a suit that is a tiny version of the one Castle has on. Meredith flew in from L.A. a few days ago, determined to help Alexis shop for a trousseau. She's dressed conservatively - for Meredith - so as not to distract from her daughter, at least for the length of the ceremony.

Kate will be serving as matron of honor and Buttons as Alexis' bridesmaid. Castle hadn't met Cary's best man and groomsman until the rehearsal dinner, but he likes them. They're nerdy enough to have suitable admiration for the collection of comics and memorabilia that occupies his den. The best man made a toast about the bride and groom discovering infinite dimensions to their relationship, that Castle was sure was both physics-based and clever.

Alexis has chosen to come down the aisle to the strains of the Pachelbel Canon, saving more contemporary music for the reception. Castle is willing to bet that for Kate, the hardest thing about leading her stepdaughter in her journey is slowing her long stride to match the rest of the bridal procession.

Castle can't even begin to catalog the emotions coursing through him as Alexis takes his arm to be delivered to her groom. Even if she and Cary have been living together for years, giving his daughter away in marriage is soul-shaking. It touches every hope and every fear he's ever had for her. He is working hard to banish any lingering doubts. This day should hold nothing but joy.

Professor Beckman begins the ceremony with dignity but a twinkle behind his heavy glasses. He describes how every particle in the universe has its opposite number. He goes on to give a slightly Vulcan-sounding spiel about how the almost infinite combinations possible with subatomic particles yield beauty and wonder, much as is possible when the souls of men and women join in a lifelong dance, before inviting Alexis and Cary to give their vows.

Alexis begins. _"Cary you understand me the way I wasn't sure anyone I met ever could. You not only share my love of music but my sense of wonder about the world. You're open to every question and every possible answer. The breadth of your mind and your heart continue to astound me more every day. I promise to be your wife and your friend. I want to love you, grow old with you, and share my life with you for as long as the universe allows._ " Jackson proudly delivers the rings, and she slips a thick but plain gold band on Cary's finger.

Swallowing and drawing a deep breath, Cary continues. " _Alexis, I never thought I'd meet a woman like you. From the very moment I found you searching for a place to immerse yourself in the music so dear to both of us, you had a place in my heart. The bond between us grows richer and stronger with every passing second. I want to pull reveal the machinations of the world with you, explore every possibility and embrace every hope. I want to tread the dimension of time hand in hand until the end of our days. For as long as the spark of life remains with us, I will be your support, your husband, your friend, and love you with all the force of my being._ " Cary slips a more petite but also plain gold band on Alexis' finger.

Professor Beckman doesn't allow any chance for objections, but merely nods at the couple to kiss and introduces them to the assembly as Mr. and Mrs. Castle-Edelman.

* * *

The last guest is gone, and the catering trucks have pulled away when Castle and Kate share a final glass of Champagne in the kitchen. Castle is still trying to process feelings sublimated during the excitement of the reception. He gave his daughter away to another man. He realizes intellectually that it was just ceremonial and that he probably couldn't have picked a better life partner for Alexis if he had conducted a worldwide search. Still, things have changed. He is no longer the most important man in his daughter's life. That spot has been taken. In his mind, she may still be his little girl, but in truth, she is a woman with a woman's view toward the future.

He is still very much a father. Raising Jackson, even with Kate, is at least as hard as raising Alexis was alone. His son's energy and curiosity know no bounds, a situation that is both exhilarating and exhausting. What the teen years will bring, he doesn't want to begin to ponder, at least not tonight. The boy's fascination with the automotive world has never waned. On his first trip to an amusement park, he wanted unlimited rides on the bumper cars. He's also an enthusiastic fan of the Speed Channel. Mercifully, Jackson sped off to dreamland in his racing car bed almost an hour before Castle and Kate found their present moment of respite.

Alexis and Cary will have their time together, the next 50 or 60 years, God willing, but on this night, Castle wants nothing more than his own wife beside him. He puts the glasses in the sink to wash in the morning and entwines his fingers with Kate for the walk to their bedroom.

The décor has changed over the years as they've acquired more things together. A collage of flotsam and jetsam gathered on Jackson's first beachcombing trip to the Hamptons, hangs over the headboard. Castle commissioned a portrait of Kate by her favorite artist, which now holds a place of honor. A photographic history of Jackson as he's grown also occupies a prominent position on the wall.

The bed is the same, except for a new smart mattress. The contents of the closets have shifted more toward comfort than fashionable flair. Castle also remodeled the adjoining bathroom to accommodate an oversized tub for Kate's beloved bubble baths. What can never be altered is the essence that infuses the room, the growing love he and Kate share. Whatever the coming years may bring, they will face that future together. Always.

Finis

My next story will also be AU, but spring from a different place and time. I want to start when Kate and Rachel recover the antidote to the toxin that poisoned Castle, in Dreamworld. There is a lot the show left out, like what Kate told Martha and Alexis and what went on during Castle's recovery. How, after all of that, Kate could have just gone back to a mostly separate and shielded existence from Castle, boggles the mind, even if it was resolved in the next episode when Kate got herself fired by the feds. Join me tomorrow for "Another Chance." Love, Sally


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